Howl's Love Advice
by Tek Sonay
Summary: He's the city's #1 heartthrob, romance columnist! She's just trying to pay rent. But when a stroke of bad luck throws them together, look out Suliman Corp! This floor mouse and self-proclaimed "love enthusiast" are about to learn a thing or two about love. (Modern AU)
1. Fabulous News

a/n: I was musing over my "To Steal a Heart" fanfic when my thoughts suddenly spiraled off into this humorous alternate story plane! Get ready for weekly updates, and feel free to ask Howl for love advice of your own! ;)

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Fabulous News**

 **HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE**

 _Professional Love Advice from_ Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon

 _December 6th, Entry #27_

 **Dear Dr. Pendragon:**

I am a twenty-something-year-old woman with good prospects, a nice personality, and a full-time job. I would love a beau, but none of the nice gents I meet ever ask for my number or want a second date.

My girlfriends say I should try wearing makeup and wear pretty clothes. However, I've never really been into all that nonsense. I think someone should accept me for who I am! What do you think? Do men really think only of external beauty? I don't want to change my lifestyle, but I don't want to be alone forever, either!

 **Sincerely,**

 **At a Loss in Market Chipping**

* * *

 **Dearest At a Loss:**

I have fabulous news - men love pretty girls!

You sound like such a nice lady, but all that depth really isn't necessary. Men are only attracted by what they see. At "twenty-something" years of age, you're clearly not getting any younger, so take your friends' advice. Lather on that makeup. Buy those glittering gowns. Beauty is only skin deep, so enhance it with all you've got and you'll be irresistible to the opposite sex!

After all, if you want to nab a man, then some necessary sacrifices must be made. Get the man first. There may be time for relationship later.

I'm sending you some complimentary coupons to the finest salons this side of Ingary!

 **Best of luck!**

 ** _Dr. Pendragon, your neighborhood love enthusiast_**


	2. Sisters and Scones

a/n: well this is new for me, publicly posting _fresh_ things. I'm a bit stumped about how modern this should be...

I thank those of you for the feedback!

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 2: Sisters and Scones**

Sophie set her teacup down with a gentle clink and smoothed the edges of the newspaper called the _Market Review_.

"Dog catcher, education officer," she murmured, running her finger along the letters. "... house nanny?"

She bit her lip, tapping that last one. After a moment, she picked up a pen and slowly circled it. The ink soaked into the newspaper and dimly glistened in the early morning shadows.

An alarm blared upstairs. Sophie heard movement coming from the loft, and soon a sleepy teenager wearing a pink nightgown stumbled into her tiny kitchen.

"G'morning, Sophie," her half-sister muttered, plopping down on a stool across from her.

Sophie smiled. "Good morning." She watched as Lettie lay her head of tousled yellow curls onto the newspaper-graced table. "I thought you were sleeping in?"

"I wanted to see you before you went to work," came Lettie's mumbled reply. She squinted a sleep-puffed eye at the tiny words besides her cheek. "Looking for prospects again?"

Sophie sighed. She flicked a crumb towards Lettie's nose and laughed at the pathetic pout sent her way. "I made you some tea and warm scones."

"You angel!" Lettie cried, leaping up to kiss her cheek. Sophie reached out to rescue her teacup from being swiped off the table as her sister made a mad dash all of three feet away to her stove.

"See, this is why I spend my school holidays with you!" Lettie cheered, sounding like a remarkably different person. Her sister was sweet by nature, but food brought out a wildness in her. She began helping herself using one of Sophie's three ceramic plates. "You want one?"

"Haha, no thanks... Actually, I'd better be off."

Sophie stood and began flipping the newspaper pages over to the fashion section, which she knew encompassed her sister's main interests. Her fingers trailed to a pause when she read the headline, "HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE. Professional Love Advice from Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon."

Lettie peered over her shoulder. "Ooh la la, Miss Sophie. What is that?"

"Pure rubbish," Sophie snorted, snatching up the paper from Lettie's gray-blue sights. She kissed her little sister's cheek twice before waving farewell and heading off to her peculiar job at the four-story building called Suliman, Corp.


	3. Vision

**Chapter 3: Vision**

 **HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE**

 _Professional Love Advice from_ Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon

 _December 11th, Entry #59_

 **The Musing of a Mortal Man (excerpted from)**

I arose with the dawn.

And I looked to the window.

And I stretched my lithe, sleep-ladened limbs and stood up from my mattress like some young buck with the vitality of life in his limbs.

The floor was cold.

And my stomach muscles shuddered in the chill.

I pressed the tips of my ink-stained fingers to the pure, crystal glass. Then I became filled with amazement, for a vision of startling beauty appeared before me:

Sea-green pools. Sun-touched rose-beds. Cords of thick gold...

...My own reflection.

Ah, what a powerful moment, dear reader. For as I stood there staring into my own sea-green eyes, I suddenly saw someone with an enormous capacity to be loved. Everything about that moment and the vision before me said,

"Who wouldn't love this?"


	4. Schedule Change

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 4: Schedule Change**

They say the building was one-hundred years old. They called it "The Royal Conservatory" back in the years before the War.

The Suliman Corporation had retained the building's original shape but not purpose. The exteriors were still all glass, but the once sky-framed ceiling had been capped by a fourth story of stone. It was painted purple and gilded in gold metal, in the likeness of the Capitol building. Exotic plants no longer flourished inside, because the interior had been fortified into a maze of cubicles, corridors, and conference rooms.

Sophie hopped off the trolley and scurried around to the backside of the building. Lingering cigar smoke clouded her descent down the steep concrete stairs leading to the basement door.

Sophie always first reported to Black Floor. It was the unofficial floor. The "Waste." Everything - the shredded paper, the trash, the mail - it all went here.

She was just placing her clochê hat in her locker when a manager rounded the corner.

"Hatter!" the man barked.

It was Mr. Cattarack. He was rather short, and he was known for his high blood-pressure. Currently, his bushy red brows danced a sporadic jig.

"Y-Yes, sir?"

"Petunia just quit. I'm reassigning you to the Blue Floor."

Sophie paled. "But sir... I thought Jane was the standby - "

"Miss Fairfax is already covering for Mr. Brown!" he interrupted gruffly. "Or did you forget?"

He walked away, yelling, "You have five minutes!" over his shoulder.

Sophie stood motionless for about two of those.

When she turned back to her locker, the girl reflected in the tall mirror stared somberly back. Sophie took this moment to examine her uniform.

The buttons on her gray, long-sleeved shirt were aligned up to her chin. She made sure the gray skirt had been pressed, and it hung flat to her knees.

She was wearing a fresh apron, her gray socks were even, and her braid was in a neat, tight pleat.

Sophie bit her lip. "Please don't be there," she prayed.

"WELCOME TO THE _MARKET REVIEW_ , WHERE NONSENSE STOPS AND REAL NEWS STARTS."

The entry sign to the second floor did little to calm Sophie's nerves as she pushed her little cart off the elevator. Row after row of work desks stretched before her. 8am, and the air was already filled with the intense clacking of typing keys. Phones were ringing and conversation was roaring.

It was a harried environment for the people in Sophie's position.

"Miss Mouse!" someone called, leaning into the aisle with a grin. In his hand was an empty teacup.

So it had begun.

 _This isn't my job_ , Sophie thought inside, but she took the cup nonetheless and went to search out a water pot.


	5. Interns

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 5: Interns**

The water pot was snatched out of Sophie's hands.

"Careful with that, Miss Mouse."

"Wouldn't want to get _scorched_."

Sophie whirled around to face the two newspaper interns who enjoyed making her job a hardship: William and Jameson. She had reported them only to be brushed off on account of "dramatizing harmless office flirting." Her coworkers reminded her that they were interns, anyways. They'd be gone before the paperwork went through.

"Do you really like wearing all that gray?" said William, the blonde one, leaning against the white counter beside her.

"The answer's pretty _plain_ to me," answered Jameson, the brunette, with a mean smirk. Sophie reddened and glanced down at Jameson's blue tie.

"Excuse me, but someone's expecting me," she muttered, reaching for the water pot. Jameson lifted it easily out of reach. He was growing a thick bushy mustache to make himself look distinguished, but Sophie thought it looked just hideous.

"I have a job for you," Jameson said instead. "Will you do it by eleven?"

Sophie clenched her hands together. If she refused to answer, they'd only continue to pester her.

"... Fine."

Jameson handed her back the water pot, and William stood up from the counter and slid a paper into Sophie's apron pocket.

"Remember," William whispered into the shell of her ear. "There are other ways of being promoted…"

He winked, and Jameson wiggled his fingers in farewell as the two left the staff room.

Sophie watched their backs disappear before allowing her disgust to show on her face. She wiped her ear and shuddered.

The paper was a list. "Mail ribboned stacks from desks 14-19. Retrieve mail for boxes 10-19 and put in corresponding compartments. Shred papers in wastebaskets and find..."

On and on the list went. They wanted her to do their jobs, as usual. But this time, there was so much. She would never finish this by eleven, not with everything she needed to do. It was impossible!

The anxiety she had been trying to quell began flooding her system. Other blue-clad employees began entering the room at this point, so she abandoned the water pot on the cart and retreated to the nearest possible place where she could clear her head.

Today, that place happened to be a storage closet. It was located in a back hallway by the emergency stairway.

Sophie unlocked it with her keys, her fingers trembling. She glanced around before backing inside and closing the door (to just a crack, so it wouldn't lock from the outside). There she took slow breaths.

 _Be calm, Sophie_ , she told herself. She rubbed her arms and breathed deeply, in and out, through the nose and out the mouth. _Just stay calm._

An elevator door opened down the hall. The air pressured changed, and suddenly the storage door locked with a "whoosh" and a "click."

Sophie froze. _You have got to be joking._

"Well, that's just grand," suddenly sighed a deep voice from the darkness.


	6. Memorable

a/n: Thank you, Guest Reviewers! And thank you, dear readers! Fun is ahead.

It was a bit of trouble, but I think I'm finally figuring this Sophie out.

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Memorable**

 **HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE**

 _Professional Love Advice from_ Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon

 _December 17th, Entry #60_

 **Dr. Pendragon:**

I'm smitten by this lass. Only she don't know me. How do I make a good first impression?

 **Bloke on the Side**

* * *

 **Mr. Bloke:**

Think "memorable." Make it so she never. Forgets.

 _ **Dr. Pendragon, your neighborhood love enthusiast**_

* * *

She gasped. Her shoes squeaked a circle on the waxed floor when she spun her body towards the closet's other occupant.

"Who's there?" Sophie cried. In a closet, a mystery man sparks curiosity. In the dark? Uncertainty. But when trapped alone in the dark with said mystery man, Sophie's mind devised a number of potential horrors:

Assault, theft, murder －

"Whoah, easy there! No need to scream," the mysterious voice hurriedly said. A second time against Sophie's ears, it sounded positively buttery.

"I know this situation seems a little odd," it continued, "but don't worry, dear. I'm perfectly harmless."

Sophie's heartbeat thrummed in her ears as she fumbled for the light switch. Bright light hit the storage room. She froze at the sight of him.

He was roosting high on a titling stack of chairs, with his expensive, pointy shoes dangling at eye level. The storage shelves rose on the wall on either side of him. They added to the illusion of a throne.

His white shirt popped at the collar, and the make of his high-waisted, black pants suggested that the wearer possessed no small fortune.

Anyone in Market Chipping would recognize that hair's synthetic shade of blonde.

He was absolutely and unmistakably Howl Jenkins Pendragon.

"See? I'm no goblin." He winked. "I know you must be relieved to see how handsome I am."

Memories of a coffee-stained jacket flashed through Sophie's mind. She swallowed.

"W-Why are you in here?" she asked. She cleared her throat and tried again. "This room. It's for authorized maintenance only. There's a sign."

Howl sighed again - dramatic, warm, and rumbling. "I'm a poor, trapped soul who's wasting away," he said. "And you, my dear, are my would-be savior."

Hands fisting around the keys in her apron, Sophie bit her lip. He had been waiting for someone to let him out.

 _He also doesn't recognize me._

Emboldened by her discovery, she repeated her question: "Why are you in here?"

"I was locked in."

"Well, that's rather obvious. I mean why are you here in the _first_ place?"

Sophie craned her neck up at him. Howl stared back at her in silence and smugness. After a few moments, the floor mouse felt her face begin to burn in shame and frustration. Had that not been a reasonable question? Was it because she carried such a low station?

The chairs creaked a foreboding cacophony as he leapt down. Sophie stepped backwards.

"S-Stay right there," she warned. His blue eyes twinkled, and the history of his heartthrob reputation came flooding back to her.

"Don't be alarmed," the man replied, which of course made Sophie very anxious, "but I was being followed.

"You see, I'm actually from Corporate."

 _Corporate._

That's Red Floor!

Sophie was astonished.

"Then why are you hiding in a closet?"

He laughed.

"I'm from Corporate, love, I'm not _supposed_ to be on this floor."


	7. Scandal

a/n: Just to clarify, this is AU movieverse. The plot is wacky, and a couple of book elements might be tossed in, but the characters and the content will mainly be referenced from the movie.

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 7: Scandal**

"Suliman sent some purple suits to escort me back to my white-walled palace," Howl continued. "I'm hiding from them. You've seen them. They like to wear those orange, tacky bow-ties."

Sophie, in fact, had not, but she kept this to herself.

In somewhat recent history, Dr. Howl Pendragon had a work desk on the _Market Review_ newspaper floor. His reputation involved vivaciously chatting up the women and doing a penny's bit of work, which the men of course hated and the women couldn't help but love. "Howl's Love Advice" hit it off with fans and haters alike, and Sophie's crew literally processed bags and bags of mail daily. Then there were, of course, the stalkers. There was not a soul in the building who had not, at some point, fended off a Howl Jenkins Pendragon stalker.

Then Howl and his desk disappeared. He made random appearances at first. Like a professional journalist, he would skillfully avoid questions regarding his move while preserving his notoriety of wreaking social havoc on the Blue Floor.

Then one day, Howl stopped showing altogether. His advice column continued cropping up in the newspaper. The rumors surrounding him grew into an outlandish sport. A personal favorite of Sophie's claimed that the vain love doctor had finally taken to the mountains to divine if even goats could fall charm to his wooing.

...but Corporate! It was an authorized, secretive floor. Why they would give him such a promotion was beyond her.

"Well now," announced the love doctor himself, standing before her. "Since you know my secret, I can't let you go."

Sophie grew abashed when he propped a hand on the wall above her and leaned into her personal space.

"Hear my confession, gray angel, for I face a dilemma." Howl stared dramatically into the distance. "To mourn my prolonged captivity," he glanced down at her, "or to rejoice in the gift of this lovely companion to share it with?"

"I'm not staying here!" Sophie exclaimed. The door handle dug into the small of her back as she tried to distance herself from him.

Howl pulled back and pouted. "You can't leave. I've tried."

"You, sir, might have a choice, but I do not have the luxury of sitting around!" Sophie reached into her apron pocket and squeezed the crumpled list from William and Jameson. She turned and placed her palm against the cold door. "I… I'll just knock on the door until someone comes."

"Ahhh yes. Parade before the whole newspaper staff that we're leaving a closet together."

Sophie's face paled. She stiffly looked back at him with wide, brown eyes.

He smiled. "Didn't even consider how this might look, did you, dearest?

"I do love a good scandal."


	8. Experts

a/n: Thank you, my Guest Reviewers! I forgot to say this in the last chapter, but you are appreciated!

This fic has a drabbling plot. It always moves forward but tends to skip around to different perspectives.

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 8: Experts**

President Suliman peered through the brightness at the two security guards standing by the door. A frown accentuated the wrinkle by the corner of her mouth.

"You said he didn't leave the building."

The purple-clad guards nodded. Their white lensed sunglasses appeared like slanted dimensional portals on shadowed faces, perfectly mirroring the exquisite carpet. In the center of the ceiling, a giant hexagon of light spilled down from the skylight and onto the floor. The president of Suliman Corporation gazed at it. Her ringed fingers drummed against the mahogany desk.

"Check the closets," she commanded.

* * *

A loud clang shook the air when Sophie's skirt tripped her and slammed her onto the metal. She winced, rolling briefly onto her side to rub her elbows before pushing herself to her palms again.

"Is everything alright back there, angel?" Howl whispered from the darkness ahead of her. If Sophie squinted, she could make out the patented soles of his shoes.

"I'm fine," she muttered, teeth chattering in the frigid air. Thank goodness maintenance had just cleaned these air ducts, otherwise they'd be up to their wrists in dust.

After Howl's dramatic insight as to the perceived impropriety of their situation, he then suggested a number of solutions that made Sophie doubt his college degree. It was she who, in desperation, proposed they try the air ducts.

Getting up into them involved a series of events she'd rather forget.

Howl's smooth voice carried back to her. "There's a split. Which way, left or right?"

"Um… left, I think?"

"You think?" he replied, sounding mildly annoyed. "I thought women were experts at this sort of thing."

Sophie was baffled. "At crawling through air ducts?"

"Directions, angel. Although since you have the habit of resting in closets, air ducts might not be off limits with you."

"It's not a _habit_ , sir, and I politely asked you earlier to stop calling me that."

"What, 'angel'? But it suits you so well. You _are_ currently "higher up" than the rest."

He chuckled. Sophie ignored the bad quip and focused on following without bumping into any walls. She squeaked when they abruptly bumped heads.

"Oww…" they both moaned, lowering their faces.

"Why did you turn around?" Sophie sharply asked, holding her forehead.

"I think we should go right."

"But it's left!"

"Oh, that doesn't matter. It's an adventure! By the way, I've come up with a good nickname for you."

The two froze when suddenly, the musical sounds of a rock 'n' roll band split deafeningly through the cold air.

Sophie's jaw dropped when Howl pulled out a tell-tale light.

"You've had a mobile phone this _entire time?_ "


	9. Long Story

a/n: Hello lovelies! Please bear with me on the formatting of this one! Think of it as a conversation happening in real time, if you happen to wonder why times are listed in some places and not in others.

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 9: Long Story**

 _Missed Call from: Cal_

 _Today 8:57 AM_

 **Cal:** hey pick up your phone howl

 **goldenboy:** Can't. On a date. :)

 **Cal:** at 9am? ain't you supposed to be working?

 **goldenboy:** Skipping. ;-) The ol' hag is on the hunt...

 **Cal:** hate to be you

 **goldenboy:** yeah. This girl is so worth it though.

 **goldenboy:** She's cute! Cheesed off at me though...

 **Cal:** ain't everyone?

 _(Cal is typing)_

 **Cal:** wherere your keys again

 _Today 9:05 AM_

 **Cal:** are they in the back

 _Today 9:08 AM_

 **Cal:** hey

 _Missed Call from: Cal_

 _Today 9:09 AM_

 **Cal:** HOWL I'm lookin sketch outside your place what are you doing?!

 **Cal:** nevermind don't wanna know

 _Today 9:12 AM_

 **goldenboy:** under the frying pan birdbath. DELETE THIS TEXT

 **goldenboy:** We're in the air ducts escaping. Long story. It's cold.

 **Cal:** weirdo

 **Cal:** lol found a stalker in your lvng room...

 **Cal:** jk. see ya later if you live. No guarantees on your food safety

 **goldenboy:** Touch my bacon and you're dead.

 **Cal:** :P


	10. Bad Day

[Shameless Advertising - If you're looking for a humorous read with incredible depth, check out "Howl's Love Spell" by beyond the shadows. It's delightful!]

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 10: Bad Day**

Mr. Higgins of Yellow Floor was having a lousy morning.

It all started when his alarm failed to sound and he awoke to the missus screeching in his ear to take the dog outside.

The front door locked behind him, and he stood for a good twenty minutes in naught but slippers and a dressing robe, banging on his own front door while his dog howled its head off. His wife, conveniently, slept soundly through the noise.

Then what should have been a five minute excursion turned into an hour-long nightmare when the police suddenly arrived. The suspicious next-door neighbor, Mrs. Mullins, had apparently thought him a burglar. After finally convincing the police that yes, this was his home and yes, his dog, too, he was freed to put his clothing on backwards, miss the tram, and arrive thirty minutes late to work to a disgruntled boss and two absent assistants due to influenza.

The coffeemaker was also broken.

This is why Mr. Higgins decided he needed a smoke break at 9:30 in the morning.

Presently, he loitered between the only walls not made of glass (the path to the restrooms). Almost every wall on Yellow Floor was made of glass. He had slammed into them numerous times on account of Corporate's demand that they be "spotless." They gave a great view of the traffic, though.

Of course, he was not _truly_ taking a smoke break. He had quit smoking. The unlit cigarette simply rested between his lips. Smoking indoors wouldn't be the best idea, anyways. Might set off the fire alarms and ruin all those pretty merchandise stalls.

Maybe all those cheap wristwatches he sold would be ruined, too.

Now there was a good thought. Mr. Higgins hummed to himself as he fingered the lighter in his pocket.

Two security guards suddenly rounded the corner.

Mr. Higgins squeaked, the cigarette in his mouth tumbling to the tiled floor.

"Have you seen this man?" one of the guards immediately asked in a sludgy, raspy voice. Nervously, Mr. Higgins looked at the upheld photograph.

"Um... oh yes! That's Dr. Pendragon!" he said. "No I haven't. Seen him, that is. Not doing anything. I mean, I'm not, though he probably isn't either."

The two purple-suited men looked at him for a long moment, making Mr. Higgins wonder why he bothered getting out of bed at all.

Oh yes, his wife.

Finally, they nodded sharply and turned to leave. Mr. Higgins relaxed.

Some dust floated down from the ceiling, and he sneezed. When scuffling noises sounded from above, he looked up in puzzlement.

The two guards glanced back just as a man and a woman came crashing down through the ceiling boards onto the poor Mr. Higgins, who broke their fall.

He groaned under tangled limbs and dust.

Note to self: Lousiest. Day. EVER.


	11. Centrifugal Forces

a/n: This chapter initially came out "sideways." It's 200 words over my personal limit, but I like it much better now!

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 11: Centrifugal Forces**

 _ **Two months earlier…**_

The number of winks and compliments that Howl lavished upon his female coworkers emphasized his most convivial mood.

How could he not be generous after last night?

After all, his Alma Mater's rugby team had won the Regional playoffs!

In celebration, Howl was wearing his rugby jacket to the office. It was trimmed in gold and the sleeves were a cardinal red. The harlequin-patterned vest sported the colors of coral and lavender. On the back splayed the words "WIZARDS RUGBY, USK." The University of the Sciences in Kingsbury had chosen a wizard for their mascot because the students had determined that they were obviously as ingenious as the magical.

Sure, the jacket was a few years antiquated, but there was no denying how good it looked on Howl. It was also in mint condition, and Howl planned on keeping it that way.

He slipped the pretty secretary a rare coupon to the Hatter's Boutique before strolling down the aisle to his own famed desk: Desk 27. He thrived on the attention he received along the way, even stopping to discuss last night's game with the few males whose egotism could hold their own against his.

Howl arrived at his destination and snagged a piece of mail from the pile spilling across his keyboard.

"Ah, from Jasper M., December nineteenth," Howl read aloud, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet at the ankles. Betty slowed her typing and angled in to listen.

"'Dear Doctor Pendragon. I have been reading your column for some time. Your advice has been entertaining and totally irrelevant to my life - until now,'" Howl read in a dramatic voice, causing Lucy to giggle. "'What would you say to a cynical, hard-hearted man who has suddenly fallen in love?'"

Howl grinned. "I dunno, Marianne, what's it like to fall in love?"

"Why, I don't know, Howl," came the brunette's immediate response from the right, her dark eyes sparkling as she twirled her phone cord. "Like eating chocolate and taking a bubble bath, I suppose."

Roger snorted good-naturedly. "Sacrificing your dignity and your wallet is more like it."

Howl trashed the unfinished letter and paced the aisle. "Boring," he declared. "The concept of falling in love is severely romanticized."

"Finally someone with common sense!" a man grumbled as he walked past.

"What an un-love-doctory thing to say," Marianne scolded.

"No, Howl has a point," Roger commented. "It's this unrealistic 'the stars are aligning' sort of thing."

"Exactly!" Howl said, his feet planting solidly in the middle of the aisle. "Why not interpret falling in love as... _literal?_ "

He smirked and then, as if to emphasize his point, theatrically flung his arms into the air. Everyone watched in horror as a floor mouse turned the corner and walked straight into them.

The woman gasped and desperately fumbled with her coffee tray.

Howl responded without thinking.

* * *

 _(Later that day)_

* * *

 **Dear Jasper:**

 **Falling in love...**

 **It's a centrifugal force.**

 **It is a desperate dive at a forty-five degree angle and your body slamming into hers, her coffee burning down your favorite harlequin coat, the both of you tumbling to the ground.**

 **Your strong hands are saving her from uncertain doom, gripping her shoulders. Then her braid is unraveling towards the floor.**

 **The sleeves of your favorite, mint-condition jacket are drowned in coffee but you are taken by her fearful, brown eyes.**

 **If you have not physically experienced a sudden encounter such as this, then you have certainly not fallen in love. In fact** _ l

Howl abruptly spun away from the keyboard and stared at the "WET FLOOR" sign. His coworkers sent him questioning looks.

His mind's eye could remember her mouth, her uniform, the ink-stained tips of her fingers.

But for the life of him!

"What on earth is her name?"


	12. Double or Nothing

a/n: I'm having way too much fun with this story. xD

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 12: Double or Nothing**

 _ **Present day...**_

Sophie squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her brow to the cold, metal locker.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" came Lettie's concerned voice through the mobile's receiver.

"Just some bruises," Sophie whispered back. "Oh Lettie, I don't know what to do. They're going to fire me. It's going to be awful."

Half of her own department already knew what had happened. It would not be long before Yellow Floor discovered who flattened their man, and Blue Floor learned what happened to their "floor mouse." The story of Howl Pendragon's latest tryst with a nobody in the air ducts.

He certainly owed her no favors. The look Howl had sent her before the guards whisked him off to Corporate had been one of utmost annoyance.

Sophie pressed the hot mug of coffee against her stomach, grateful for the small comfort that Tillie, a mail-sorter, had given her.

"No, it's not going to be awful because you're going to sue them!" Lettie's no-nonsense voice replied in her ear.

Sophie scoffed. "For what?"

"For having closets that can lock you inside! You've clearly been a victim of this -"

"Lettie, I have to go," Sophie said quickly, watching as a security guard strode through the locker room. She set down the coffee and pocketed her phone.

"Miss Hatter?" the looming guard asked in a guttural voice, his white sunglasses reflecting her nervous face.

"Yes, sir?" Sophie replied. Her heart pounded thickly against her throat.

"Come with me."

* * *

It was an interrogation chamber.

This was Sophie's first thought when the guard escorted her to an upholstered armchair situated under a hexagonal skylight in the center of the room. Sophie inferred that the room was spacious, but the blinding light and her intense case of nerves made it futile to scrutinize further.

"Miss Hatter. Please have a seat."

The command came from the person seated behind a grand desk just outside the light. Sophie did as she was told and allowed her hands to quietly strangle each other in her lap.

Once Sophie's eyes adjusted, she realized that President Suliman certainly lived up to her image of an assertive businesswoman. She dressed elegantly: a crisp, red blouse with pointed shoulder pads, a golden neck-chain, a polished wristwatch, and rings for days on her aged fingers. Her white hair was short and gelled back in the latest fashion.

"Let's not waste our time with idle chit chat," the president began, leveling her mild gray eyes at Sophie. "Do you know why you are here?"

"Y-Yes... Mrs. President."

"Good," President Suliman answered before leaning back in her chair. "Tell me your side."

It took Sophie all of about a minute to explain what happened since the closet. When she was finished, the president strummed her fingers on the desk.

"I understand your choices, Miss Hatter," the elder businesswoman stated. "Office scandals are like snakes with too many heads to sever, and Howl Pendragon, unfortunately, is not the type of person who likes to kill snakes."

Sophie gave a tiny, relieved nod.

"Though even more unfortunately, Miss Hatter, is that there are snakes even I can't kill. Namely being the damage done to corporate property, the injuring of a coworker, and inappropriate behavior during office hours."

Sophie's hands began to shake. Well, there goes her nerves. She longed to hide them in her pockets but refrained under the president's watchful gaze.

President Suliman stroked a round, glass paperweight that sparkled in the light. She cast on Sophie a keen eye.

"Don't fret, dear. You're in luck. Your manager has informed me that you have been an invaluable member of his team. Therefore, I have graciously decided to grant you a second chance."

Sophie gasped. Could it be?

"Work for Howl."

"What?" Sophie let the word slip before she had even realized what happened. Was this a joke?

"Work as Howl's secretary," continued the president with a glint in her eye, "and you will be paid double what you are making now."


	13. Play, Eat, Repeat

" _Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 13: Play, Eat, Repeat**

Howl paced.

"Come on, man, I thought you were gonna play online with me," complained Cal from the couch, waiting for the video game to load on Howl's 80-inch television screen.

Howl stopped to adjust the ice pack that he held against his cheek. His restless footwork had carved a haphazard path through the clutter on the floor. He could finally see those mahogany tiles. Wouldn't his grandmother be proud.

Goodness knows how much she paid for them.

"I just need to find out if she's been fired. I didn't even get her address," he announced grumpily.

"Uh… that's called stalking," Cal retorted, brushing a bronze hand across his short, fiery red hair. "Plus you only knew this chick for like thirty minutes."

"Thirty-five," Howl corrected.

"Oh yeah. Coffee girl. Bet you still don't know her name!"

Howl frowned and watched his best friend make screen selections with the game controller.

Cal snorted at his telling silence.

"Hah! Fine." Howl walked around the black leather couch and flopped next to him. "I'll figure it out eventually. She looks like she could be a Bethany..."

"Bethany was your last girlfriend. Are you making up names?"

"Does it matter so long as she's pretty?" Howl smirked.

"Hence your perpetual state of singularity."

"This one's different, Cal."

"I believe it."

"We had a _moment_."

"Listen, man, I love ya and all -"

"She's tenacious yet adorably timid. She also breathes in closets."

"Haha, dude, what? Stop!"

"Kept _me_ interested," Howl added with a mischievous smile.

After crashing through the ceiling tiles and landing on that bystander, Howl had almost been disappointed to see the woman open her eyes. Had she remained unconscious, he could have done a little resuscitating to help her with that breathing hobby of hers...

With a sigh, he tossed the melting ice pack onto the messy coffee table.

Those purple suits were unbearably annoying. Didn't they actually _have_ duties besides waiting around for him to screw up?

Cal stuffed a salty crisp in his mouth and offered Howl a controller. "Campaign?"

"Can't." At the look in his friend's amber eyes, he added, "Gotta go pick-up my little friend in five."

Cal laughed. "Our university degrees in all their glory."

" _Delayed_ glory," Howl chuckled.

Currently, neither one of them were doing what they had set out to do. Cal had studied astrophysics but was working in international marketing. Howl had personally finished his doctorate a few months back and frankly never wanted to think about school again.

Howl took a second to check his appearance in his compact mirror. His sore cheek still looked red. He hoped it wouldn't bruise. Just in case, he nabbed an open tube of BB Cream from the coffee table and spread a layer of cream over his cheek. "How old are we turning this year, twenty-five?"

"Naw, that's all you. I'm a sweet twenty-three, and I ain't settlin' anytime soon."

"Ouch. Single so long. Want my advice?"

"Hah! Like you'd take your own."

Howl shrugged. "Of course. Who ever heard of a doctor taking his own medicine?"


	14. Not So Simple

a/n: I'm preparing to draw some cover art! Any suggestions? :) Also, thanks for the review, James Birdsong!

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 14: Not So Simple**

"I… I can't," Sophie mumbled.

Her mobile, cooling beside her in the afternoon chill, waited for her fingers to inch across the park bench and scoop it up.

However, that would not be happening.

She _could_ not call her sister and that was that.

Since Lettie was going to have an absolute fit when she found out, Sophie decided to save that conversation for the privacy of her apartment. Where she could outline the situation. Explain her reasoning. Swear Lettie to secrecy so she wouldn't immediately run off and tell their step-mother.

Of course, a day was all it took for her sister to crack and spill, but thankfully a day was all Sophie needed...

...and had.

The twenty-one year old sitting in Chipping Park cringed anew. The surprised expression on President Suliman's face at her thoughtless question three hours ago had instantly turned the moment into a terrifying one. Sophie had fleetingly wondered if they'd allow her to empty her locker on the way out or if they'd mail the contents to her in a box.

She, Sophie Hatter, had asked, _"May I think about it?"_

Had those air ducts addled her brain? Why else had she not immediately accepted her boss's merciful offer to be Howl's secretary when the only alternative was job termination?

Double the pay - not even her step-mother's Boutique had offered her that!

The president had completely shocked her by laughing and giving her 24 hours to decide.

Of course, Sophie knew that more than her job was at stake here. The word _scandal_ came to mind... For goodness' sake, the entire department believed she had been snogging Howl in a closet! A sudden promotion would have people like William and Jameson chomping at the bits.

A woman's reputation was hers to defend, and if there was one thing that would send it straight to hell in a handcart, it was becoming Howl Pendragon's secretary.

So what would it be: her reputation or her livelihood?

Sophie tightened her beige pea-coat around herself and breathed warm air against her chilled fingers. The children on the playground near her screamed with joy as they chased each other around the swings.

A stray plastic ball rolled out of the playground's confines towards Sophie's bench. A small boy raced determinedly after it, skidding to a stop just a few feet away. He had an adorable, upturned nose, and his unruly, orangish-brown hair flared out from under a blue flat cap. A green vest showed beneath his blue blazer.

Although mulch speckled his pants, he looked like a little gentleman!

The boy watched her curiously as she leaned to pick up the toy ball drifting against her feet.

"Wow, you ran so fast!" Sophie said appreciatively, offering him the toy. "I'm impressed."

He puffed his little chest and took it from her. "It's cause I practice," he said. "I'm faster than any of the kids here, and I'm only seven."

"I see," Sophie replied, hiding her amusement. "Well, keep it up and one day you'll compete in the Great Feats!"

The boy brightened at that. "What's your name?" he asked.

 _Bold_ , Sophie thought. _I wonder who he learns it from._ "I'm Sophie," she said with a sweet smile.

He nodded and stuck out his free hand for a handshake. At that, Sophie _did_ laugh. "I'm Markl," he said seriously, before trailing off shyly, "and you're pretty."


	15. Pick-up

a/n: I loved writing this chapter!

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 15: Pick-up**

"I really appreciate you letting Markl play with his old friends like this."

"Oh no, please! It's the least I could do for that sweet boy. Besides, you've made so many generous donations -"

"Ah, don't worry about that. Star's Choice Children's Home has been plenty there for me," Howl said, glancing at the shooting-star logo painted across the Home's van. The female volunteer he conversed with nodded. He flashed her a coy smile. "Seeing that we're both in debt, how about we settle it over a cup of - _oof!_ "

He stumbled forward as a small body launched itself onto his back.

Howl laughed and peeled Markl off his spine. "Hey, squirt," he said, swinging the boy up onto his shoulders. "Ready to go?"

The volunteer giggled, but when a child started screaming her name, she sighed and waved goodbye. Howl wistfully watched her leave.

"Why you always gotta wear these funny glasses?" Markl commented, tugging on the arms of his guardian's aviator-styled sunglasses. Howl reached up and tickled him.

"To blend in with the funny people," he replied, grinning at Markl's snickers. In truth, he wore them to disguise himself from his occasionally wild fans. He didn't care to expose Markl to that. On his own, he had no problem with it.

Howl adjusted his grip on his boy's legs and set off towards the car parked around the corner. "Hey, guess who's in town."

"Grandma?"

"Nope. Uncle Calcifer."

"Yay! He can teach me to play that new game Battle for the Waste!"

Howl frowned and tried to remember the violence levels in Calcifer's latest addiction. Explosions, a couple of decapitations, nothing too bad, right? A crinkling noise sounded above him. A second later, a clear plastic wrapper came floating down. Howl snatched it out of the air and examined the familiar Suliman Corporation logo.

Markl made happy smacking noises, his dirty fingers burying themselves into Howl's hair.

"Who gave you that peppermint?" Howl accused.

"A nice, pretty lady!" came the boy's immediate response. "You should marry her."

The love enthusiast chuckled. Since his adoption, Markl was always on the look-out for a potential mother figure. "Oh should I?" he teased. He sneakily reached up and snatched Markl's flat cap off his head.

"Hey!"

"Hahah, you're too slow!"

When they rounded the street corner, Howl's driver started the engine of the sleek, grey vehicle. Howl swung a struggling Markl off his shoulders and planted him on the ground. The boy made one last pouting grab for the hat before reluctantly clambering into the back seat of the car.

Howl climbed in next to him and ensured the boy was properly buckled in before giving the driver instructions. He was still new to this parenting thing and didn't want to royally mess up anything. Which he was prone to do. Daily.

"So what's this nice lady's name?"

"Sophie."

Conceding, Howl tugged the cap back onto Markl's head. "That's pretty."

"I think so, too."


	16. Spill

a/n: Are faster updates better? or do I need to spread them out a bit? ;-)

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 16: Spill**

Sophie shrieked and dropped the groceries when someone yelled, "Gah!" and burst out of hiding from behind the jade green loveseat.

"Lettie Michelle Hatter!" Sophie sputtered, heart rate so high that it took her a full ten seconds to de-plaster herself from her apartment door.

Lettie promptly fell to the floor laughing. Upon seeing Lettie's defenseless state, the wickedness of an elder sister rose within Sophie, and in a moment, she had hopped over the scattered grocery bags and mercilessly began tickling.

"S-Stop! Stop!" Lettie squealed, "You deserved it! You ignored all my c-calls!"

"Maybe I was working, hmm? Didn't I teach you patience?" Sophie wiggled her fingers around Lettie's sides and eventually joined her younger sister's giggling. Lettie tried to squirm away, but Sophie had her trapped against the loveseat in the tiny apartment.

"Lemme go, or I'll tell everyone! I'll tell everyone that -" since her elder sister wasn't stopping, Lettie continued and practically howled, "you kissed Hoooowwwll Peeennndragon! K-I-S-S -"

"WHAT!"

Sophie lurched back. Lettie scrambled off across the white, vacuumed carpets like a golden-haired cat from water. Sophie jumped to her feet and chased her upstairs into the loft. Lettie was ready. She was armed with a huge, fluffy pillow and had her back to the corner behind the bed.

"Talk!" Sophie demanded, furious and horrified that someone had already told her little sister such licentious gossip!

"Well, you didn't pick up, so I called my friend Betty who works the marketing floor," Lettie announced smugly. "Honestly, Soph, I'm eighteen this month! You didn't have to hide something like this from me!"

"Uggh, Lettie! That never happened! There was a misunderstanding!" Sophie groaned, now wishing she had called sooner. She grabbed a pillow and hurled it at her sister, who dodged. "And you honestly think I'd do something like that? I've never kissed a man in my life!"

"Okay, fine! Sorry - _mouth-to-mouth resuscitation_ \- or whatever they're calling it these days. Goodness gracious, I didn't think you'd be this upset after saving someone's life!"

"Save someone's life?" Sophie repeated, lowering a second pillow in confusion. But that hadn't happened, either... Was this the rumor everyone had heard instead?

Lettie looked at her, confused. "Okay, now it's _your_ turn to spill, because Betty told me that some maintenance man fell through the ceiling and squashed Dr. Pendragon. Then you were nearby and resuscitated him back to consciousness, because he got concussed! Betty says the company's president even rewarded you with a promotion!"

Relief flooded the anger from Sophie's system. The rumor wasn't really the truth, but she could work with it. It was better than having all of her hard work completely invalidated because everyone contributed her success to her ability to give intimate favors.

She felt like crying. After all, she had experienced a trying day. She deserved a bit of self-pitying, so she collapsed face-first onto her quilted bedspread. She felt her bed sink as Lettie flopped down beside her.

"So…" her sister began, "...that good, huh?"

"Hmm?" Sophie turned her face to peer up at Lettie, instantly wary of the knowing expression.

Lettie rolled her eyes. "Howl Pendragon," she added. "So! His lips! What were they like?"


	17. Not Quite

a/n: I know it's been a while since we've seen Howl and Sophie interact, but don't worry! The next chapter picks up the pace!

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 17: Not Quite**

The next morning, Howl was toweling off his hair when he fell into a fit of sneezing.

Stuffing his face into the damp towel, he fumbled for a box of facial tissues. His shoulders quaked with each new bout. When Howl finally got it under control, he gripped the marble sink and grinned because he knew exactly what these sneezes were about:

Somebody - no, _many_ somebodies - were thinking about him.

Today's drama was going to be good.

It took an hour for Howl to decide what to wear. He finally settled on black pants, a tight, burgundy dress-shirt, and a grey scarf in lieu of a tie. Once he slicked back his bright blonde hair to perfection, Howl grinned slyly at his reflection in the mirror.

 _Sexy._

Cal had volunteered to drop Markl off at school, so Howl left his house and headed straight for Suliman Corp. He stepped out of his vehicle onto the paved entryway just as the morning sunlight brightened the building.

Normally, Howl would have found the glinting glass mocking, but today the visual was cheering, and the fourth story of stone almost appeared as a jaunty cap.

The building's four levels, bottom to top, were nicknamed Yellow Floor, Blue Floor, Green Floor, and Red Floor. Howl always thought the office workers were so brilliant to have come up with these names. After all, each floor had different colored floor tiles. Yellow Floor was probably the most peculiar of the levels. It essentially functioned as a business marketing showroom. Small businesses seeking to gain more publicity could rent a stall or room for a trial period, during which prospective business partners would sample their wares and approach potential contracts.

The entry doors opened smoothly under his hands. Once inside, Howl strolled to the center of the lobby and stopped, nonchalantly adjusting his scarf and feigning inspection of his wristwatch.

Someone gasped.

The professional murmuring suddenly grew to eager chatter as he was spotted.

Howl smiled.

 _Show-time._

He casually strolled towards the glass elevators. Two business women waiting nodded in greeting, attraction gleaming in their eyes, and angled their heads away to whisper to one another. Howl pressed the elevator button and waited, fragments of their conversation reaching him.

"...actually came to work!"

"After… injury... you'd think the hospital… make him stay..."

"...still looks so sexy."

The women released wistful sighs. Howl's ego soared. So rumor has it that he was injured in the fall? This could work to his advantage. Pleasant things could come out of women wanting to tend him back to health.

Then the whispering took another desirable turn.

"But why… she get to do it?"

"I know… just some house-cleaning girl!"

 _Yes, be jealous, ladies,_ Howl thought smugly, watching the elevator slowly descend down its transparent path. _The next time it's rumored I've snogged someone, I'll actually have done it._

"...rather cruel of her," one of the women continued saying a bit louder. "I mean, who dumps someone after resuscitating him?"


	18. Minor Details

**Fun Fact!** I sometimes go back and edit minor things, such as formatting and sentence structure. So if you think something's changed, then it probably has. However, if I ever (it's rare) change anything related to the plot, I'll definitely give notice!

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 18: Minor Details**

Oh, how Sophie wanted to pace!

She experimentally leaned forward a couple of times, but the overbearing awkwardness of the security guard beside her was deterring. She reluctantly settled on smoothing her grey skirt repeatedly, feeling the starched material under her fingers.

Her reflection wavered in the ascending panes of the glass elevator. She hadn't been sure what to wear, so she had donned her usual uniform. Her brown hair was in a bun, though, that was different. Lettie had assured her that her hair and tiny stud earrings looked very secretarial.

All too soon, the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open with a "ding."

Sophie stared at the Corporate lobby with uncertainty.

 _Am I really about to become the secretary of someone whose work I disrespect?_

 _Working with Howl Pendragon will be like constant baby-sitting! What if he drives me to assaulting him with a hole-puncher?_

The guard had already exited the elevator. Sophie shook her head and hurried through the closing doors.

 _Stop, you need this money,_ she scolded herself. _If you're going to continue working jobs you don't like, you might as well get better pay._

 _Besides, he's only a love column writer. That's hardly pressure._

Although Sophie nervously wondered why someone like him had an office in Corporate and needed a secretary at all...

Sophie hadn't gotten a good look at her surroundings her first time through. The Red Floor lobby was pentagonal-shaped with red, laminate tiles and black marble walls. On either side of the empty assistant's counter were wooden doors that led to the rest of the floor. Back behind the counter were the broad, double-doors that led to the President's office.

Once Sophie was inside, the president offered her a seat. Already this experience felt much better than her last. After a few minutes of professional yet brief exchange, Sophie found herself signing a contract. To her relief, her hand trembled only a little.

"Now Miss Hatter," President Suliman said, sliding the completed contract into one of her desk drawers. "I'm afraid I haven't been fully honest with you."

Sophie slowly straightened in her chair even as she felt the blood drain from her face.

Really?

 _The president springs something like this_ after _I've signed the contract?_

"I am about to tell you something that you mustn't repeat to any soul. As long as you keep your silence, you will remain a treasured associate of this company. Agreed?"

The implicit warning was there.

Numb, Sophie could only nod.

President Suliman leaned forward and crossed her hands. Pearls glinted in the office lighting.

"Howl Jenkins Pendragon," she said, "is my grandson."

Sophie couldn't help it. She gasped.

"Yes, it's true," the president continued, a smile lifting her aged cheek, "and he and I have an agreement: the day I retire is the day he takes over Suliman Corporation. However, there are several additional clauses to our agreement. Howl is dangerously close to breaching one of them. My request, Miss Hatter, is simply that you keep him on-task."

Sophie couldn't believe what she was hearing.

That flighty, bad advice-giving, vain closet-hider was the successor of a major corporation?

Realization dawned. _And now I'm his secretary?_ she panicked.

When a door in the lobby slammed shut, President Suliman leaned back with a smile. "Ah, he must have finally received my email."

Sitting in her high-back chair, Sophie could only hear the hiss of the office's double doors as they were thrown open.

"Grandma!" Howl shouted, his footsteps coming closer. "I told you to stop meddling in my -"

He abruptly stopped next to Sophie and stared down at her.

Sophie stared back. His snug burgundy shirt seemed to glow under the skylight.

"Howl, meet your new secretary," the president said cheerfully.

"Her name is Sophie Hatter."


	19. The Right Foot

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 19: The Right Foot**

He was _so_ getting that hag back for this!

Howl stomped up the grand staircase in the center of Red Floor with the girl trailing behind. No doubt she was admiring the unique architecture. He snorted. Sure it was impressive - for a prison.

The tall, open room was rimmed with two stories of glass-walled offices framed with dark wood. The upper story had iron-gilded railings which caged it from the open floor. Everyone kept to themselves up here. Only a few smartly dressed people loitered and watched the pair. Potted ferns and bonsai decorated every corner, but unfortunately there was not a single window. Aside from two emergency staircases, Howl's only escape was through the elevator, which was inconveniently placed directly in front of the president's office.

As he stepped onto Red Floor's second-story balcony, Howl couldn't decide whether to be upset or excited by his present circumstances.

Grandma _clearly_ thought that a secretary would help him stay on task. Okay, he had been drastically cutting down hours, but so what? He had a new son to raise! Besides, they had never specified how "off-task" he had to be in order to violate one of their clauses.

What did the girl have to do with any of this anyways?

 _Sophie…_ He repeated the name in his mind and enjoyed its lilting softness. He briefly wondered if she had planned it all before he dismissed the thought. If that was the case, then she would have taken advantage of him in the air ducts.

But she hadn't.

Too bad, really.

His office was on the opposite end of the balcony. Realizing that Sophie seemed to be falling behind, he glanced back to see her struggling to match his pace. Guiltily, he shrunk his long-legged strides until he was walking beside her. She blushed and glanced away. Wisps from her bun prettily framed her neck.

So this was the girl who had "dumped" him. Howl chuckled dryly. It had never happened to him before, yet she had apparently succeeded without even being in a relationship with him.

When they arrived at his office, Howl opened the door and waited for her to enter first. Curiosity rose when she remained outside, quietly wringing her hands.

"Dr. Pendragon," Sophie said before he could question her. "Before we go in, I… I'd like to apologize for the rumors."

Howl stiffened. She ducked her head in embarrassment, "I'm so sorry, I had no intention of those happening. I was also somewhat concerned that the alternative rumors might have been... Um..."

"Far more exciting?" Howl interrupted, crossing his arms and leaning on the door-frame. So she thought the truth was far worse, huh? "By now, all of the staff could know what smart spies we were by the way we escaped that closet, yet here I am footing the 'damsel-in-distress' bill. Hmph. Well, at least one of us had a popularity spike," he added, knowing full well the female jealousy this woman was receiving.

Sophie paled and stared at his scarf, seeming to struggle in her response.

Howl was miffed, but to be fair, not at her. It wasn't her fault everyone had spun the rumors wrong. Then the hag had sprung this secretary news on him and told him in no uncertain terms to "behave himself."

Howl didn't like being told what to do.

However, as he studied his cute new secretary, he decided what the heck. _Let's just see what happens._

"Well," Sophie suddenly said. "Considering the circumstances, we'd best start off correctly then."

Howl started in surprise when she turned with apparent eagerness to leave. "I'll just go correct those rumors right now," she announced.

"Wait!" Howl said, reaching out to gently catch her wrist. She eyed him warily. They had barely been introduced, yet she was already running off? Had he missed a spot shaving this morning or something? "How about we correct them here?" he suggested.

At her puzzled expression, Howl glanced around before drawing her into the office. He casually closed the door behind them.

"Those rumors," he clarified, taking in her flushed cheeks and rosy lips. "How about we... give them some validation?"

Just as he was thinking about leaning in and tasting said lips, Sophie gasped.


	20. The Wrong Foot

a/n: My original vision for this story is coming to light! The imagery in this scene was all I had to work with when I first started writing this fanfic.

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 20: The Wrong Foot**

"Is _this_ your office?" Sophie exclaimed.

Oblivious to the danger, she brushed straight past a smoldering Howl to stare dumbfounded at the chaotic scene before her.

It was as if Howl had taken the contents of a recycling bin, chopped them to bits, poured in a vat of glue, and then blasted them with a pressure washer all over his office.

Rubbish was _everywhere_ : crumpled, strewn, stacked, and piled feet high against walls which Sophie could barely deduce were white! A black swivel chair tucked behind some sort of… mass… a desk? Yes? And one of the more defined messes was a pile of empty crisp bags and hairspray bottles in a corner.

The walls were slapped haphazardly with layered white charts and various notes, secured with tacks and letter openers. Sophie blinked a few times. Was that a dart board?

The attraction that had been building at Howl's graceful movements in his tight shirt and his slick hair plummeted to an all-time low with her discovery of Howl's repulsive habits.

"Pretty impressive, isn't it?" Howl breathed from behind her.

Stunned, Sophie shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "I can't be expected to work in conditions like these -" As she turned around, Howl abruptly pulled back his face. She shied away incredulously. "Were you just sniffing my hair?"

Howl cleared his throat and strolled past her. Sophie checked her hair bun as he flopped into his swivel chair.

"Welcome to my white-walled palace," he said, gesturing grandly. "Expecting something better, princess?"

Relieved that her hair was still in place, Sophie knelt to pick up a coffee-stained paper airplane. "Yes. I'm sorry, but I was. How on earth did your previous secretary stand this mess?"

Howl shrugged. "There was no previous secretary. You must admit, I have a right to work in a pigsty if I want."

Sophie was aghast. No wonder President Suliman had hired her; she must have been desperate! This was a business establishment, for goodness sake! Men with offices and power were supposed to receive constant visitors, and with the state of things, Howl was well on his way to becoming a laughing-stock instead of a respected corporate leader.

Sophie took a deep breath and squeezed the paper airplane in her hand. "All right. Please listen. If I'm going to be your secretary, then we need to establish some ground rules."

Howl lifted a fine brow. "Isn't that _my_ job, as _your_ boss?"

Sophie's nostrils flared, and she blushed a little at the rebuke, but she reined her temper. "All right then. But as someone with previous experience as an _actual_ secretary," she pointed out, "I would like to contribute to the process."

"Deal," Howl said with a sly smile. "First rule: every morning, bring me a sixteen ounce cup of coffee. Black. One sugar."

Sophie spotted a crinkled pad of paper near her foot, and she retrieved it and a capless ballpoint pen. Jotting down his first demand, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Time?"

"Report at 9am."

Startled, she felt the pen slide under her fingers. "So late?"

Her new boss shrugged. "Perks of a secluded office."

Sophie thought about it and slowly shook her head. "8am," she said, correcting it on the page. Ignoring his protests, she continued. "Phone calls?"

"All yours." He threaded his fingers behind his head and spun his chair in a circle. "You will retrieve my mail and help me avoid meetings."

"You mean make meetings."

"It's in my contract. I pinned it to the dart board. Check it yourself."

Sophie's eyes widened when she realized that he had, indeed, stapled his contract to the dart board. _'What a strange family…'_ she thought.

The nape of her neck prickled. Howl was staring at her again.

"You need new clothes," he was muttering.

The arrogance of this man!

"My attire is perfectly acceptable," she huffed, marching right up to his desk. "And just to be clear, a secretary is someone who assists you. I am _not_ someone to practice your love advice on!"

Howl crossed his arms and smirked. "What? Afraid of a little role playing?"

The abrupt ringing of a phone snatched away their attention, shaking some papers atop the desk. After a little digging, a corded phone emerged. Sophie plucked it from Howl's fingertips.

"Howl Pendragon's office, this is his secretary speaking. How may I assist you?" she quipped.

Howl glared, mouthing _'Doctor.'_ Sophie shot him a look.

 _"Umm… Yes. This is Glenda from Marketing. There are reporters here from the local news station, and they're requesting an interview with Dr. Pendragon."_


	21. Recipe

To my Reviewers and Guest Reviewers - You are wonderful human beings, and your comments make writing and sharing this story so much fun!

a/n: I finally drew some cover art, woot woot! I will also incorporate Howl's Love Advice Letters more frequently from now on, so feel free to ask Howl questions.

 _Disclaimer: Because I have no wish to ruin your love lives, please do not take Howl's advice to you seriously. Don't tell Howl I said this._

LETTER courtesy of: **bearythebear**

* * *

 **Chapter 21: Recipe**

 **HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE**

 _Professional Love Advice from_ Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon

 _Special Edition, Entry #1_

 **Dear Dr. Pendragon:**

There's this guy at my school that I like, and I mean really like. I've known him for a while and we're pretty good friends, but I'd like to be something more. I've done everything I can to try to get his attention or show that I like him, but he doesn't seem to get the hint. He just says I look nice that one day I dress up, or thought of my gifts to him as just a friendly gift.

Should I give up or should I just outright tell him? Please help me!

 **Sincerely,**

 **A Hopeless Cause**

* * *

 **Dear Hopeless,**

The signs are all there. Your man is exhibiting the classic case of "Playing Hard to Get." You've come to the right doctor, darling, because I have the perfect prescription for you:

You're going to play "hard to get" yourself. ;-)

INGREDIENTS

 _1 Wardrobe of Tight, Beautifying Outfits_

 _Daily Applications of Make-Up and Stylish Hair_

 _2 Weeks of Casual Avoidance of Said Man_

 _2.5 Weeks of Cancelled Plans with Said Man_

 _A Dash of Flirtatious Chit-Chats with Other Attractive, Eligible Mandividuals_

After Week Two, if this guy isn't hanging off you trying to figure out what's going on, then dump the friendship and move on. Any man too blind to see your value is not worth your time. Besides, how could you ever truly be content held at arms' length?

NOTE: Any side effects such as Heartbreak can be comforted in my warm embrace. Send me an email enclosed with a picture and a contact number, and we'll work out times.

 _ **Dr. Pendragon, your neighborhood love enthusiast**_


	22. Sidelined

To ALL of my Readers - thanks for reading! Even a minute of your time for coming this far means so much to me.

Anonymous Reviewers: donty one, jack malvine, angelina wonder, rueben xD, and james hasmen - thank you for your sweet responses! Also, are you guys all friends?

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 22: Sidelined**

"Fraud," Sophie whispered to the artificial silk fern at her elbow. It wiggled its leaves at her when a rush of cool air breezed past Sophie's skirt.

The eleventh, purposeful person of the minute was walking through Suliman Corporation's front doors. Sophie's eyes followed the businessman as he strode across the lobby to clasp hands with a stationed Capital Skylights' associate. She imagined herself in the businessman's place and decided to share her ideal exchange with her plant companion.

"Hullo there, I'm Dr. Pendragon's new secretary," Sophie muttered, watching the businessman gesture toward a stall with his hands. "I am looking for a skylight that doubles as a paper shredder, one that sucks messy offices straight into the sky." The associate smiled and nodded. Sophie watched him procure a pamphlet. "You're in luck!" she whispered his fictitious reply. "I have a special 'New Boss' roof that projects sentient light beams. These beams not only shred paper, but they provide massage therapy for secretaries."

Laughter chimed, and Sophie hastily returned her attention to the interview. Luckily, her little dialogue had remained private, as it appeared Howl was thoroughly occupied with entertaining the female reporters.

Sophie sighed. If by coming and "looking secretarial," Howl had actually meant "stand there and do nothing," then she should have stayed in his office.

The impromptu news interview was being held within a circle of couches in the lobby of Yellow Floor. The camera woman had dictated that Sophie and the gathered audience keep their distance so as not to ruin the shot. When Howl hadn't said anything, Sophie had quietly retreated to the sidelines with everyone else. Presently, she stood fifteen feet away and feigned superhuman listening skills.

Initially, dutifully, she had appeared attentive, but her inability to hear the conversation created boredom, and now tiny hats were being doodled in the margins of her notepad.

Absentmindedly, she fingered one of her tiny earrings. Howl was obviously enjoying himself. The local reporters leaned in, smitten, questioning, and Howl easily dipped back, wittily equivocal. Any more women present and this could be an interview on an episode of "Ingary's Next Executive Bachelor."

Someone tapped Sophie's shoulder.

Sophie hastily shut her notepad and turned to smile politely at a woman in a burnt-orange pantsuit. "Yes?"

"You're Dr. Pendragon's new coffee girl?"

"Secretary…" Sophie corrected lightly, "but yes, that's me."

"Right. Anyways. Congratulations!" the woman said brightly. "I hadn't known they were advertising for your job position."

"Thank you," Sophie answered. _How kind. I'm glad there's finally someone thinking practically about all this._

"This must be a big step for you after taking out the trash."

 _... Ah._

Sophie's smile faded. The woman flashed a disparaging smirk before sauntering towards the front doors.

"Sophie," Howl called.

Howl had his arms slung across the back of the mauve, polyester couch and sat with an unusual expression on his face, like a cat wary of being deprived its clotted cream.

Sophie composed herself before hurrying over. _I can work hard. I can earn this._

The reporters looked antsy. When they weren't asking him questions, they were glancing towards the front doors. Outside was parked a limousine, and a small crowd had gathered about a man in a fitted, yellow suit.

"Yes, Howl?" Sophie asked. Howl signaled for her to wait. Sophie hugged her notepad and pretended not to notice the glares of the camera woman, whose shot was no doubt being ruined.

"Well," one of the reporters announced. "As we can all see, the Prince of the business world has decided to visit Suliman Corp. today! Tell me, Dr. Pendragon: how did a journalism icon such as yourself become acquainted with Mr. Tharaldson?"

Howl lifted a brow. "Acquainted?"

"Everyone knows about your past rivalry with the Prince," another reported quipped. Her hot pink fingernails curled against the armrest in a raptorial manner.

Sophie looked at Howl curiously. He opened his mouth to reply, but the reporters suddenly snapped their attention towards the front doors when Mr. Tharaldson walked in.

"Monopolizing peacock," Sophie heard Howl mutter. He abruptly surged to his feet and maneuvered out of the circle of couches. The reporters hopped up in excitement, and Sophie hastened to follow everyone.

"Turnip Head!" Howl unexpectedly called out. "Crossing the advantage line without even a kick-off?"

Everyone stopped.

Sophie paled.

 _...Oh my... First day, and I've already got a case of diplomacy._

The man in the yellow suit stood there with his back to Howl. When he turned, the presence of a grin on his handsome face surprised everyone. Sophie felt surprised for an entirely different reason.

"Well, if it isn't the Wicked Wizard of the Wastes," Mr. Tharaldson said with amusement in his gray eyes.

Sophie covered her mouth. _Justin_.


	23. Statistics

[Background on choosing Justin's last name: Ingary and Strangia are neighboring countries. Since Ingary seems to be UK-influenced, I wondered what country Strangia might resemble. So I thought, "Why not Norway?" Norwegian, like English, is a Germanic language. Tharaldson is Norwegian for "ruler."]

* * *

 **HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE**

 _Professional Love Advice from_ Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon

 _November 7th, Entry #23_

 **The Musing of a Mortal Man on Rivals (excerpted from)**

Blood rushing.

Teeth gritting.

The desire to rip off your shirt -

\- more than usual.

Rivalry is just a little word for war...

* * *

 **Chapter 23: Statistics**

Name: Justin Tharaldson

Age: 24

Height: 6'0"

Weight: 74kg

Nationality: Strangian

Education: The University of the Sciences in Ingary, Imperial College of Strangia

Aliases: The Prince, Turnip Head, J.T.

 _Current Rival Status: Tolerable_

Howl laughed as he crushed Justin's hand in his.

The love doctor faced his rival, eye to eye, pecs to pecs, creating a clashing yet attractive spectacle of burgundy and yellow.

It had been far too long since Howl had last seen his old college rival.

Their initial meeting years ago was a bit of history. Howl had first noted Justin after a particularly nasty rugby practice. Justin had removed his scrum cap, and his thick hair had been plastered around the sides of his face. Howl had immediately announced that it made him look like a turnip.

Howl had gained his own nickname, "The Wicked Wizard of the Wastes," after a particularly notorious season of ruthlessness on the field.

Crouch. Bind. Set.

 _Start._

"You're looking rather chipper this morning," Howl drawled with a backwards lean to assess Justin's tailored attire. Too yellow to be gold. Out of season. But cleverly attention-grabbing.

Justin grinned and gave assessment of his own, "And you look like a bloody raincloud."

Howl: 0

Justin: 1

Howl flicked his grey scarf. "It helps combat the disgusting levels of happiness in this place. How's business?"

"Good! Almost too good in fact." Justin ran a hand down the side of his jaw. "That's why I'm here. I've got some contracts to draw up with your president."

"Didn't just come here for the coffee?" Howl joked.

"No offense, but I'd rather drink brackish water," Justin laughed. "What about you? How's that love advice column of yours going along?"

"Sensationally." Howl gestured towards the news reporters and audience that had gathered around them. "In fact, we were just wrapping up a news interview."

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"There was no risk of that."

Howl: 1

Justin: 1

Howl leaned a bit closer. "So three bodyguards."

His yellow-clad rival sighed, then nodded. "Like I said. Business is going _extremely_ well." Justin gave a wry smile. "They even see me giving away money, the scoundrels, and still come leeching."

"Even philanthropy has its setbacks."

"But no bodyguards for you? What of all your adoring fans?"

Howl winked. "While tempting, there are other ways of deterring ladies other than physical restraint."

"Oh Lord… Come on, Howl. Not even one bodyguard?" Justin challenged, shifting to peer over Howl's shoulder. Howl stood smugly until he noticed the rigidness that seemed to pervade Justin's body.

"... Sophie?"

Confused, Howl glanced back at his secretary. Justin brushed past him. The murmuring of their audience escalated.

"Sorry, Howl. Excuse me for a moment... Sophie Hatter?" Justin requested again, standing before the woman. Howl balked. Exactly what was Justin doing with _his_ secretary? Sophie wasn't supposed to know any other men!

At least she had the modesty to look uneasy, peering up at his rival with shy eyes.

"Hello, Justin."

Howl watched, surprise and annoyance washing over him, as Justin beamed and stepped forward to hug her.

 _Hold on. Time-off! Stop the clock!_

Even _he_ hadn't gotten that far!

Howl: 1

Justin: -

No. He refused. Clearly, this was a foul.

Exclamations brayed all around them. Justin pulled back and nervously ruffled the back of his light blonde head. Sophie's face was bright pink.

"Sophie, I'm shocked! I never expected to see you here," Justin began.

Howl lifted a brow. _Excuse me?_ _I'm sorry, this is a soliloquy-free zone. Unless your name is 'Howl Jenkins Pendragon.'_ Smoothly he moved to stand by Sophie's side. Justin looked startled.

"I see you've met my secretary," Howl said lightly.

Justin's eyes flicked between him and Sophie, resting disbelievingly on the latter.

"You mean you put up with this guy?" Justin asked sympathetically, pointing a thumb in Howl's direction. Howl bristled.

"Y-Yes. It's a bit of work," Sophie replied, a smile pulling at her lips.

"Well, if there's anyone who can handle him, it's you, Sophie," Justin boasted. "Howl's only successful secretaries were the girls who were willing to type up his term papers."

Howl snorted. "At least I didn't sleep through my classes."

"At least I _passed_ my classes," Justin retorted. "Laziness is a swift killer of brilliance. Sophie here taught me that," his rival added with a warm smile in the woman's direction.

"You two went to school together," Howl concluded. He did not like where this was going.

Sophie nodded, clutching her notepad. Justin slipped a hand in his suit pocket. "Yeah. We've know each other for a while."

Howl eyed him.

There was something in Justin's tone, once admired, twice foreboding.

People saw Justin as the chivalrous, generous "Prince." But previous years of sweating and bleeding on the field beside him had familiarized Howl with Justin in a way that none of these small-minded people could understand.

One didn't become a business-world icon simply by being "nice." Justin Tharaldson was the type of man who got what he wanted. Only perfect defeat could sway his concession.

Justin found and held Howl's look. "Yes... Sophie and I had a lot of serious study sessions. Didn't we, Soph?"

Howl sensed Sophie stiffen beside him.

"Lovely story," remarked Howl dryly.

Justin lifted a brow. "Want to hear another one?"

"Justin Tharaldson," an elderly voice interrupted. The crowd was hastily transitioning to make way for President Suliman, purple-clad business sorceress/viper (at least in Howl's opinion).

Justin jumped sheepishly, but of course Howl kept his cool as his grandmother promenaded through the hullabaloo to the center of Yellow Floor, two purple suits sentineled behind her.

There was a polite exchange of greetings before Justin discreetly checked his golden watch. "Ah. I apologize, Madam President, I've kept you waiting, haven't I?"

"A matter of Dr. Pendragon's influence, no doubt," President Suliman waved off. A sharp look curbed Howl's snicker. "Shall we relocate to my office?"

"Of course." Justin reached into his inner suit pocket. "Sophie?" He took her hand and pressed a business card into her palm before Howl could calculate how to separate them. "We'll be in touch." Justin looked at him, nodded, and then followed President Suliman towards the elevators.

Howl glanced around. The security guards were distracted. The reporters were regrouping. Sophie was drifting off into "think about Justin" land.

Time to move.

"Let's go," Howl said, putting a gentle hand on Sophie's back and steering her towards the front doors. Sophie stumbled along.

"Wait! Isn't there work to do?"

"You want to be around when everyone starts asking questions?" Howl asked, pushing open the glass front doors. Sophie's pained expression was all he needed. Howl motioned for the valet to get his car.


	24. Justin and Sophie

a/n: I was really torn about how to post this chapter, but I decided that one chunk rather than two would better serve my pacing purposes.

Warning: flashback turned flash-flood!

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 24: Justin and Sophie**

 _ **8 years ago...**_

"Class, we have a new student. Please welcome Justin Tharaldson. Justin, would you mind telling us a little about yourself?"

Sixteen-year old Justin straightened his peach blazer and rose from his desk. The stares of his new classmates caused his cheeks to redden pleasantly, and Justin secretly found their attention bolstering.

"Good morning," Justin began. Just like Father. "I'm J.T. I just moved from Strangia for my father's company relocation."

"Your father is the owner of Royal Airlines, correct?"

Justin slid his hands into his pockets and nodded, feeling proud. "I'll inherit someday."

"That is so wicked!" someone exclaimed. Murmurs of appreciation swirled. Justin told them a few more things, about his love of sports and his hatred of geography, before the teacher welcomed him and began the art lesson. The blonde teenager settled in and set his thoughts adrift. So far, Ingary wasn't that bad.

"Alright, class!" the teacher announced at the end of the lesson. "All is good?"

"Knock on wood!" the class answered, knocking three times on their desks before gathering their things.

Justin glanced around in surprise, earning some teasing.

"Oh no, the new guy didn't knock. Now he'll have bad luck all day!"

"Kinda _Strang_ ian, us Ingarians, huh?"

"No worries, J.T.! You'll get used to us."

Justin laughed, puzzled, before standing to gather his notebooks. Thankfully, someone explained.

"It's a tradition." The murmur came from his right. "Our ancestors were, um, superstitious."

A girl a couple of years younger than Justin stood there, eyes round and hair braided in two brown plaits over her shoulders. She wore a pale gray cardigan which, to the disappointment of Justin's teenage mind, highlighted a rod-straight body.

She regarded him pensively. Remembering his manners, Justin opened his mouth to reintroduce himself when the girl passed him a blue square of paper.

"I'm Sophie Hatter," she said. "My family owns the Hatter's Boutique in town. If you have any questions, I'll try to help."

Then, uncertainty in her features, the girl turned and left. Justin eyed the paper in his hand and realized it was a business card. Something deep within him relaxed.

 _At least I'm not the only one..._

* * *

He spotted Sophie again in the lunchroom.

He mentioned her to Timothy, a sports guy who had slung an arm around Justin's shoulders and introduced him to the other athletes. Timothy glanced over to where Sophie studied a textbook in the corner.

"You got eyes for Whisper Hatter?" Timothy laughed.

"Whisper?"

"She's so quiet, you forget she's there."

"Used to be different," defended one of the girl athletes.

"Yeah..." concurred another guy. "Before her dad died a while back."

Timothy frowned. "But now she's super depressive boring. All she does is read."

Curious, Justin watched Sophie clean a spot on the table.

* * *

 ** _One week later -_**

"You're folding it wrong."

Justin internally groaned when his lab partner corrected the way he hung the laundry. Again. _"Quiet," huh?_

Sophie was the most patient student in their Family Sciences class, so the teacher had assigned her to Justin. The class's purpose was to teach life skills, and apparently washing laundry like old people was one of those.

"See? Like this," Sophie instructed. Justin struggled to emulate. Across the classroom, Timothy caught his eye and made a face.

"Like this?" Justin asked, hopeful. The girl inspected it.

"At least it's not upside-down…" She peeked at Justin and offered a smile.

Justin found it rather nice.

* * *

 _ **Two months later -**_

Justin rubbed the business card between his fingers and waited for someone to pick up the phone.

 _"Hatter's Boutique, can we help you?"_ piped a child's voice in his ear.

"Um, hi. Is Sophie there?"

 _"Ummm…"_ Justin winced when the little girl yelled, _"Sophie, there's a boy!"_

There was a brief scuffling sound. Justin could hear Sophie faintly scolding, _"Lettie, what did I tell you about shouting?"_ Her voice neared the receiver. _"Sophie Hatter. Sorry about that. Who is this?"_

Justin smiled at her professional tone. "Hey, Sophie, it's Justin."

 _"Oh... Hello."_

"Sorry to bother you on Saturday." Justin glimpsed his textbook and winced. "I, uh, was wondering if I could take you up on that study offer."

Sophie fell silent for a moment.

 _"...Geography?"_

Justin laughed. "Yes."

 _"Meet me at the library."_

* * *

 _ **The following year -**_

"I think you should run for President."

Justin closed his locker to face a resolute-looking Sophie. "Isn't that illegal? Since I'm from Strangia and all?"

The fifteen-year-old laughed before shaking her head, "You'd be good at it."

Justin studied her. "You should be Vice-President."

Sophie shook her head again. Then she shyly held up a flyer. "Secretary," she confessed.

* * *

 ** _Election Day -_**

They had won.

Student Council President J.T., Vice President Will, Secretary Sophie, and Treasurer Angie lay sprawled in the teacher's lounge amidst hundreds of student-written votes, notes, and petitions.

Weeks of campaigning had proven fun yet draining, and now Justin felt like he could pass-out for hours...

A mobile alarm went off.

"Sorry, everyone," Sophie muttered, picking herself up. "I have to head home."

Just then, Justin's own alarm sounded for rugby practice.

Will groaned and covered his eyes. "We have no lives…"

* * *

 _ **Moment -**_

A sigh escaped Justin's lips as he hung up his mobile. Sophie glanced up from her smoothie when he walked back inside Cesari's Bakery.

"It was my father." Justin plopped into the booth. He ran a hand down the side of his face, feeling the thickening blonde hairs. "He's going out of town again."

He stared down at his hands and clenched them. He blinked in surprise when Sophie's smooth fingers settled over the top of his own. Justin glanced up. Their eyes met.

Sophie blushed and quickly picked up her pencil. "What did you get for number two?"

* * *

 _ **School Dance -**_

Hannah twisted her fingers around Justin's, so he obligingly leaned down and pecked her lips.

"I'm going to the powder room with Annaline," she said sweetly.

Peter elbowed him playfully as the two girls sauntered off in their cute dresses. "Nice dance, eh, J.T.?"

The seventeen-year-old grinned. The winter event was themed "Night Under the Stars," and everything twinkled and flashed. Some of their guy friends soon joined them with plastic cups of punch. All of them were facing the door when Sophie arrived.

"Whoah whoah," Timothy hissed, spilling his drink. "Get an eyeful of Whisper!"

Justin's mouth dropped. Sophie's brown hair was pulled up and curled, and her modest blue A-line dress sparkled.

 _Since when does Sophie have curves?_

"Dibs," Timothy announced, advancing. Justin impulsively clasped Timothy's shoulder. The guys looked at him questioningly.

"You have to ask her best friend first," Justin said firmly.

* * *

 _ **Fall.**_

Justin's last year of high school.

He had successfully run his term as Student Council President, and now he was bettering his grades so the University of the Sciences in Ingary would accept him. His rugby playing was stronger than ever, and he had already scored an athletic scholarship.

Justin, popular young man that he was, had dated a few girls on and off throughout school, but Sophie had remained a steadfast friend. Nowadays he caught himself staring at her, wondering about this private girl whom he had met through a business card.

One day, he saw Sophie cry for the first time.

He had held her then, in the stairwell. The anniversary of her father's passing.

She had eventually dried her eyes and sent him off to practice.

That had bothered him.

* * *

 ** _Spring._**

His heart was changing.

And it scared him.

Their hands brushed too often to be accidental. He often daydreamed about her.

But he was so close to leaving. Sophie, at sixteen, had two years of school left.

He was called to his father's business.

And she to her mother's.

 _So why now?_

Why _not?_

Because this was Sophie, the friend of his heart.

* * *

 _ **Summer...**_

The Ingarian night sky fluttered with the wings of starlings.

His father's chauffeur waited in the car behind them, ready to take him home to Strangia for the summer before he returned to play rugby for the University of the Sciences in Ingary.

Sophie's face was held in his hands. Her eyes watered under the porch light.

Justin wanted to kiss her.

Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead before wrapping her in his arms.

"Goodbye, Sophie."

"Goodbye, Justin," she whispered.

* * *

 **Present Day**

The glass elevator walls reflected distorted images of the elevator's occupants, similar to the way time distorts memories. Memories fix people in moments of time. Friends are remembered as ageless rather than bound to either youth or maturity.

However, when Justin's memories were faced with the present reality, he realized just how young he and Sophie had been.

Justin ignored his security guards and stared at the contract in his hand, written between Suliman Corp. and the Royal Airlines, but his thoughts drifted back to the encounter in the lobby.

He hadn't been able to help himself when Sophie had said his name. For a moment, Justin had suddenly found himself standing in the Family Sciences class, where she had smiled up at him after fixing his poorly hung laundry.

The feeling of her _womanly_ figure in his arms had snatched him out of his nostalgia. Sophie had definitely changed. For some reason, Justin had always assumed that Sophie would be waiting back at her family's business, just as he had remained with his father's.

But her being there... was it a sign? His second chance?

Look at him, thinking like an Ingarian.

Justin frowned. There was another matter: Howl.

People here saw Howl as this charismatic, devil-may-care "love doctor," but years of competition and experiencing college life beside him had shown Justin that once Howl conquered something, he tended to discard it for the next challenging diversion.

Only an idiot could have missed the possessiveness in Howl's claim of Sophie as his secretary. Well, if Howl wanted to pursue Sophie, then the scoundrel was just going to have to get permission first.

Hah.

Like _hell_ was he going to let Howl date Sophie.

Justin strode off the elevator and squeezed his mobile, his security guards trailing. He had always wondered if he had made the right choice, back then. Now?

 _Sophie... I will await your call._


	25. Favors

a/n: Whew! Somebody slay the drama dragon! xD I had been musing on Justin and Sophie's past for a while now, considering its non-existence in both the film and book. I am both pleased and terrified by the results.

jack, jerry, and nick: Thank you for your reviews! You guys crack totally cracked me up with your comments about Howl and Justin. xD

LETTER courtesy of: **BowerickWowbagger**

* * *

 **Chapter 25: Favors**

 **HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE**

 _Professional Love Advice from_ Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon

 _Special Edition, Entry #2_

 **Dear Dr. Pendragon:**

I find myself in quite a predicament. As you are gifted with the supreme knowledge of love, I'm hoping you could alleviate my distress. You see, I'm in love with words. They're not just any words that set my heart aflutter. The latest words that have conquered my heart are gently compelling and wildly amusing. Even while few, they create a layered and intricate story.

They make me into a lovesick, giddy fool who craves more of this sweet ecstasy. I can do no more than to admire them, to revel in their warm embrace ...

 **Sincerely**

 **Bowerick Wowbagger**

* * *

 **Greetings Bagger of Wows:**

Your infatuation with words is wildly amusing. However, I must gently compel you to get a _human_ lover.

Giddiness over words can't compare to the sweet ecstasy of an actual embrace.

But then again, everyone has their thing.

Mine just happens to be women.

 _ **Dr. Pendragon, your neighborhood love enthusiast**_

* * *

Calcifer had a knee propping open the fridge door, a bag of crisps caught between his teeth, and an ale in one bronze hand when he spotted it: perfection.

It lay there, glistening and celestial in its diaphanous wrappings, modestly obscured by a carton of eggs. Calcifer cackled gleefully, reaching for the packaged bacon, thinking his vacation had just become paradise.

Then his mobile rang.

The red-head snatched the crisps out of his mouth and swore. He set down the foodstuffs and dug the mobile out of the pocket of his skinny jeans. Howl's ringtone was the sounds of cats, whining, yowling cats. Calcifer hastily swiped away the 'goldenboy' I.D. and said, "Look, I didn't touch it."

 _"What?"_

"Err… nothin'." Calcifer reluctantly stepped back and let the fridge door close. "What's up, man? And look, your water boiler ain't broken, so don't ask."

 _"Wait a sec."_

There was the sound of a car door slamming. Howl's voice became distant, signaling that his friend was now talking to someone else. _"It's not nuclear physics, dang it. It can't be this hard to figure out!"_

 _"Well, you'd better hurry, someone's coming,"_ sounded the faint reply of that "someone else." It was a chick. Calcifer rolled his eyes. The man couldn't take one day off.

 _"You said our trail was clear!"_ Howl complained.

 _"Well, you said it'd take two seconds!"_ the woman retorted.

 _"Give me that bag."_

 _"Careful, you'll damage her."_

 _"Her? No getting attached."_

 _"But -"_

Calcifer waited. Slowly, he chewed a few seaweed-flavored crisps, listening to the way his jaw crunched against the receiver. This episode of phone drama beat last night's episode of "Mystical Encounters" with its weirdness. Although Calcifer had to admit, an old lady who thought she could speak to fires was pretty freaking weird, not to mention hilarious.

 _"Cal, you there?"_

The redhead popped open the ale. "Yeah, I'm here." He took a long sip.

 _"Oh good. Listen, I need you to check my room for -"_ Calcifer sighed when Howl was interrupted again, _"- botheration, they're already here! Sophie, just leave that one."_

It was always the same with Howl. Whether in everyday conversations or aggravated circumstances, he simply avoided giving straight answers. Calcifer had quickly learned this from day one, when Howl had dragged him out of that alleyway. He had asked Howl where they were going, and all the boy replied was, _"I'll figure it out._ "

Speaking of...

 _"Okay, Cal! Heen's number is on my nightstand. Text it to me."_

Calcifer frowned. "Why isn't that already in your phone?" Silence. "Howl? Yo! Jerk can't even hang-up like a normal person."

The red-head grudgingly left his snackage on the kitchen counter-top and went to Howl's room. Compared to the rest of the place, the chaos in here was relatively organized. Calcifer ducked under some low-hanging contraptions and stepped around a bunch of plants, a few sciency things, and some plastic swords (courtesy of Markl) until he was standing besides Howl's creepy alarm clock. It was an old-fashioned pendulum with a freaky eye. Calcifer hated it. In college, Howl used to prop it next to his pillow so he'd wake up with it looking at him.

Calcifer found the number scrawled on the back of a receipt and entered it into a text. He hit send.

It wasn't until he was back in the kitchen, hand wrapped around the fridge handle and amber eyes once again affixed on the bacon, that he realized what he was doing.

It was his week off work and he was in his buddy's house, drinking at ten in the morning, doing errands, and getting ready to play video games until he picked up a kid at two o'clock.

Calcifer ran his fingers through his short hair and exhaled. "I really need a girlfriend."


	26. Car Ride

a/n: What a MONTH!

Hey, ya'll! I had to drop off the map for a while because of RL and tons of wedding-related stuff. My best friend just got married! :D I was her maid-of-honor and drove out-of-town every weekend. I also was the Day-Of Wedding Coordinator for my sister's friend. Plus my sisters are in town visiting!

Now that things are finally settling, I have been ITCHING to write. This is going to be very good for you all. ;-)

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 26: Car Ride**

 _ **5 years ago…**_

"Oh sweetie, I wish you wouldn't wait around for that Justin boy."

Sophie hastily hung up her mobile when her step-mother strolled into her bedroom. "Mom… we're friends."

"Mm, I see. Well, has this friend answered your messages?"

Sophie glanced down at her quilted bedspread and ran her fingers along it. "He's… busy with university, that's all."

Honey, her step-mother, clucked her tongue. "Sophie, I'm the only one who will tell you this because I love you. Boys like Justin make friends easily. He's moving on with his life, sweetie. He doesn't need you now."

* * *

 **Present Day**

"Howl! Please slow down!"

"Hahah, you old lady."

"No, you're a maniac!" Sophie yelled when Howl whipped the car around a bicyclist. She squeezed a cuddly animal toy to her chest and hardly dared to breathe. She was terrified that Howl would drive off the road if she so much as blinked.

"We lost them!" her boss cheered, flashing her a winning smile. Sophie scowled. Howl's response was to laugh and mash on the accelerator pedal.

Sophie gasped, "Doctor Howl Jenkins Pendragon!"

A light up ahead turned red. Their car screeched to a stop, causing their purchases in the backseat to tumble forward and Sophie to release a soft moan.

Howl frowned and peered at her. "Hey, you alright? You're skin looks… Oh no. You can't! You can't get ill in my car!"

"Oh sure, whine at me, when it's your fault I'm feeling this- _oh_." Then the vehicle was moving again. The people on the city sidewalks blurred past as colorful smudges. Sophie clutched the toy and turned towards her window with eyes squeezed shut, wishing away the thick, queasy feeling in her throat.

Cold air suddenly bit into the car cabin. Howl had rolled the windows down a crack. It was freezing, but the fresh air made Sophie feel a bit better.

"Try to fix your eyes on something stationary outside the car, it helps," Howl murmured.

His tone reminded her of Justin: calm, warm, thoughtful.

"If you get sick in my car, though," Howl continued, "then your first duty as secretary will be to clean every inch of this interior!"

Nope, not Justin.

"That's exploitation," she muttered, boring her gaze into a cloud along the skyline.

"And especially not on that toy in your arms," Howl continued ranting as he turned the car onto a side-street. "A bit childish, don't you think, naming it a thing like 'Dollop.'"

"Daisy," Sophie corrected, briefly glancing at the green-eared, spotted cow in her arms. "I don't understand why I'm the childish one when you're the one who bought it!"

"Someone wasn't listening," Howl retorted. "It's for the Contest. They all are." He gestured towards the backseat filled with soft toy animals.

Sophie bit her lip and ran a finger along the window edge. "Right..."

"Hm. That's the third time you've said that."

"What?"

"I mention the Contest, and you go all like, 'Oh,' 'hmm,' 'right,' 'I see.'"

"...Oh. Right."

"Sophie…" Howl gripped the steering wheel and glanced in his rearview mirror. "Were you not standing through that twenty-minute interview this morning?"

"Yes?"

"Then why in Ingary do you not know about the Contest? That's all I talked about the entire time!"

"The camera woman placed me fifteen feet away, how could I possibly hear you?"

Howl overplayed a sigh. "I guess this just means I'll have to keep you closer to me from now on." He rested his hand on the gear shift stationed between them. Sophie moved her leg further away from the middle. They drove on for a few silent moments.

Late winter winds chilled the car windows. It was surprising the car had warmed at all. It was an old-fashioned, rust-bucket with a streamlined nose and odd, pinkish side paneling. Sticky little fingerprints were on front passenger side dashboard, leading Sophie to wonder if a child had ridden in there recently.

Howl sighed again. "Can I tell you about the Contest now?"

Sophie gaped. Had he been waiting for her to _ask?_ "You are incorrigible."

"Use fifty words or less to describe the perfect first meeting. Winner gets two tickets to the Lionsgate Amusement Park. It's the perfect contest: my readers get to share their stories, and I get an arsenal of fantastic pick-up lines," he winked.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "When does it begin, and what's my part?"

"Next week. You'll be helping me judge the entries." Howl blindly reached back and pulled up a purple-and-peach-striped hippo toy.

"Herman!" Sophie exclaimed happily. The hippo had been one of her personal picks, and she thought he, like the cow Daisy, was simply adorable.

"Oh my word," Howl scowled. "I said no getting attached. I was going to say, these medium stuffed toys are for the runners up. That giant bear in the back is for second place."

"There are so many," Sophie said, daring another glance backwards now that her car-sickness had abated and Howl was driving better. "What are you going to do with the rest of them?"

"Charity," Howl dismissed. He tossed Herman back into the backseat, making Sophie frown. "By the way, those guys chasing me are regulars. They really don't like my methods.'"

"Ah so... critics?"

Howl laughed. "Yes, critics."

Sophie smiled a little. She had never had a boss like Howl. Aside from his ludicrous driving, Howl made work… interesting. She wondered if being his secretary would always be like this.

They talked some more about the contest. During a lull, Sophie pulled Justin's business card out of her pocket. Tan and gilded gold. His printed name rustled memories.

"Sophie, do you have plans this weekend?"

She started. "I'm not certain."

"Great. Cancel them. We've a lot of work to do."


	27. Transitions

a/n: Oh my goodness, thank you all for your well-wishes! You guys are the sweetest!

**Announcement: as of this chapter, I have archived a Total of 100,000 words on Fanfiction. AHHHHH

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 27: Transitions**

Sophie stared in disbelief, shivering from the wind brushing against her bare knees, as Howl's car rattled around the corner and disappeared.

He had left her!

Dropped her off, said he had to be somewhere, and then poof!

Scurried away like some slither-outer.

Outraged, she turned, shoved her way past Suliman Corp's entry doors, and she did not slow until she had reached the glass elevators on the other side of the lobby.

Several curious glances were sent her way.

 _Stare all you want,_ Sophie mentally huffed while pushing the button to Red Floor. _You're not the one whose boss up and abandoned you on your first day._ A minute later, the doors slid open to Red Floor's lobby. _I don't even have a schedule yet!_ Sophie lamented.

It wasn't that she struggled with change. In fact, Sophie loved learning new things and going places. It's just that for the past two years, Suliman Corporation had kept her on a strict schedule: 7:30am report, 6pm leave. Empty trash bins at 10. Fill water pots at 11. Mop stairwells at 2:30, etc... Her managers liked to take her every little minute, and Sophie worked hard on top of that, so this unstructured day had abruptly transitioned from adventurous to feeling uncomfortably like playtime.

Thinking that cleaning would help establish normalcy, Sophie tried opening Howl's office door only to discover (she should have guessed it) that it was locked.

Leave it to her to get stuck with a disorganized boss.

 _I mean, getting locked in a closet, falling through ceiling tiles..._ Sophie leaned against the balcony's iron railing and thought back over the past couple of days, ... _randomly promoting someone, impromptu interviews, and going toy shopping? Now Howl couldn't have planned all that, could he?_

Of course, she hadn't forgotten the interview in the lobby.

Justin's business card was still sitting in her skirt pocket, like a little secret. The encounter had been resting on the edge of her mind all day...

That stunned expression on Justin's face when he recognized her.

The way his hair had grown out, layered and shaggy behind the ears.

How he had embraced her in front of all those people, with the brightest smile upon his face, after not a word to her in over four years.

Seeing him today had been an emotional surprise. She had yet to sit down and decipher every tone of action, every nuance of his facial expressions. She wanted to know how he was doing, to ask if he was happy running part of his father's business.

However, she knew she shouldn't expect him to be the same person. After all, she herself had changed so much.

What had he meant when he said, "We'll be in touch?"

Sophie bit her lip. Did he want to be friends again?

...

She might be all right with that.

She had already dealt with her heartbreak. Besides, he was a shareholder in a major corporation. He had graduated from college. People called him "The Prince" now. He probably just wanted to see how his buddy from school was faring.

Hesitating, Sophie took out the card and looked at it again.

Perhaps it would be nice to catch up.


	28. Set-Backs

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 28: Set-Backs**

Howl patrolled the kitchen. "Okay, keys…"

"Daddy, are you in trouble?"

"Haha, I hope not! Let's see, wallet -"

"Uncle Cal says you are."

"Did he?" Howl asked his adopted son. Markl was munching on sweet cereal at the island counter. His reddish-brown hair was sticking up in the back again. Cute little tyke…

 _Oh right, where's that wallet?_

"Yup, yesterday he said you're gonna get it. What's 'it,' dad?"

Howl scoffed. "Your uncle is just upset that I beat him at multiplayer last night."

"Am not!" Calcifer countered, stumbling out of a guest bedroom. "You only won the last round out of like, what, six?"

"Hey, don't minimize my hard-earned victory. Markl, is your backpack ready?"

Markl wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before nodding and climbing down his stool. Calcifer rubbed the boy's head on his way past.

"So," Calcifer began. "Were you planning to tell me you're working this weekend before or after the babysitter showed up? Oh wait. _I'm_ the babysitter."

Howl grabbed his brown peacoat and checked his watch.

Calcifer leaned on the counter. "Howl. You know I don't mind, but I'd at least, I dunno, like to be _asked_ first. I could've had plans."

" _Do_ you have plans?"

"Uh... no. But it's the principle of the matter!"

"Cal, I have to be on time today."

"Hah! That's a first. And no you don't. You have that uh, meeting with Markl's teachers this morning."

Howl stiffened and stared at his friend. "What?"

"You saw, right? Markl's teacher gave me a letter yesterday morning when I dropped him off. I stuck it on the fridge..."

Both men glanced over at the tall, stainless steel appliance.

It was completely obscured by magnetized papers.

Calcifer scratched his head. "Huh..."

Howl hastily read the letter before going silent for several moments. Not only was he going to miss work this afternoon (to meet with Heen), but now he couldn't go in at all!

There was only one thing to do.

Howl turned towards Calcifer and gave him his best pitiful face.

Calcifer scowled. " _No._ "

* * *

It was 8:35am, and Howl still hadn't arrived at work.

Sophie wandered down to Black Floor to see if anyone would come unlock Howl's office door with the Master Key. No sense in wasting yet another day.

Her old manager, Mr. Cattarack, looked none too pleased to see her, however. "Eh? What are you still doing here? You're gonna have to go check with Mrs. Marshall on Green Floor. Corporate ain't my business."

As Sophie scurried away, she heard Mr. Cattarack mutter, "Damn that Suliman! Always takes my best workers and leaves me to scrounge…"

The elevators were faster, but Sophie didn't feel like facing people this morning. Thankfully, Suliman Corporation provided three methods for traversing its floors.

The first, the glass elevators, were accessible from every floor. Everyone preferred to use the elevators, even though the common stairway, the second method of access, was technically faster. The common stairway had glass balusters and ran only from the first floor up to the third. This stuck Maintenance with using either the elevators or the final method of access: the emergency stairwells.

Sophie felt quite confident using the emergency stairwells. They were seldom traveled and offered her intervals of privacy.

She was just passing the Blue Floor landing when its door suddenly opened in front of her. Two men stood there:

William and Jameson, the interns.

When they saw Sophie, they glanced at each other and quickly stepped into the stairwell with her, shutting the door behind them.


	29. Situation

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 29: Situation**

Calcifer stared up at the impressive sight that was Suliman Corp.

"The things I do for that guy…" he muttered.

Unlike Howl, Calcifer didn't mind the structure of this multi-faceted business and how everyone seemed to know what to do. If only he could take a smidgen of this work environment and bring it to his own workplace.

The moment he mosied inside, he caught a guy staring at him.

"What? Never seen an Alberian before?" Calcifer demanded. The guy instantly paled and apologized before scurrying off.

Calcifer snickered. He knew the dude was probably just eyeing his tropical-patterned shirt. Drawing attention to his foreign characteristics - bright red hair, bronze skin, and amber eyes - just happened to be a fun way of making people mind their own business.

"Hey, lady, can you tell me how to get to Red Floor?" Calcifer leaned backwards to ask some passing gal in a pantsuit.

She stopped and gave him a once-over, one of those, "You're cute, but you're about as important to me as a piece of seaweed right now" looks.

Calcifer threw his palms into the air. "Got it. Elevator then."

 _Or not,_ he thought upon seeing the traffic. The common stairway looked pretty clogged, too. _There's gotta be… ah. There they are._

Emergency stairwells. Boy, had he seen his share of those back in his street days. He didn't care to linger with this errand anyways.

As soon as Calcifer entered the stairwell, his instinct made him freeze.

Voices.

 _Maybe nothin',_ he thought, quietly closing the door behind him. Two distinct voices: a man and a woman. Calcifer grinned. _Ooh, office drama._ Then a third, male voice joined in.

Puzzled, Calcifer crept up a few steps to listen.

The woman was saying something he couldn't quite hear, but one of the men clearly answered her, "It wasn't very nice of you to back out on us like that."

"If you weren't going to do it, you should have just told us. You didn't make us look good in front of our supervisor," said the other guy.

"Well imagine that," Calcifer heard the gal answer clearly - and very dryly - this time. "Workers slack off, and the boss gets angry."

A moment of silence. Calcifer frowned.

"She's actually pretty cute for a floor mouse," remarked one of the guys.

"You know, I think I saw a sign on the bulletin board about a new secretary who sleeps around," added the other dude. "Maybe we can get a crack at her..."

"Leave me alone!" the woman snapped.

"Haha, hey William, look. She's even cuter when she's scared."

Calcifer was already on the move. When he arrived at the landing, those two scumbags had the woman backed into a corner.

Calcifer loudly cleared his throat and propped a hand on his hip. The men whirled around.

One of the guys, the blondie, looked him up and down. "Hey, do you mind? We're busy here."

Calcifer sighed. "Hard, ain't it? Dealing with all of that sexual frustration."

The guy scowled. "What?"

Calcifer shrugged. "I get it. Nobody wants to be with two loudmouths. I'll give ya some advice." He leaned forward. He lowered his voice until he whispered, "It's best to start where you're actually wanted."

Boy.

Did that piss them off!

Jaws tensed. Fists curled.

Calcifer hadn't planned on ruining his clean streak today, but eh.

Sometimes you find a chick cornered in a stairwell.


	30. New Alliances

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 30: New Alliances**

All of a sudden, the door to the stairwell swung open.

Everyone tensed.

A long, purple-clad leg stepped inside, followed by a tall, slouching figure:

A security guard.

When he saw them, he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a cigar. "Anybody got a light?" he rasped.

* * *

The treads thudded under her feet as Sophie dashed downstairs.

The door to Black Floor was thrown open under her hands. Startled people turned towards her.

 _Why?_

Sophie ducked her head and strode into the shelter of the lockers. She felt numb. Her fingers fumbled for her old lock combination.

 _Why do I always get myself into these situations?_

"Hey, lady!" a man called.

Wary, Sophie turned. It was that red-haired gentleman from the stairwell. He jogged up to her and gave her a quick look-over, an incredulous expression on his face. "Hey, you okay? Why'd you run like that?"

Sophie looked away in embarrassment.

"Listen," the red-haired man furrowed his brow, "you need to report those guys! I heard those jerk wads. If we can tell that guard back there -"

Sophie's eyes widened. "That won't be necessary," she interjected, abruptly turning back to her locker. And repeat the humiliating events of last spring?

"Lady, what happened back there ain't okay. You want me to go knock some sense into 'em, yeah?"

Upon hearing those words, shame filled Sophie. What if that security guard hadn't come? What if this man had gotten hurt? He didn't even _know_ her.

"There's no need for you to get involved," she answered him.

He opened his mouth again.

"I'd rather stop discussing this," Sophie blurted, wrapping her arms around herself. She just wanted to be alone. Her arm still hurt from where Jameson had grabbed her. Her skin still crawled after the way William had looked at her.

The stranger sighed and rubbed a hand over his spiky scalp. "Okay," he finally said. "Sure. Cool, I get it."

Sophie nodded, relieved.

Tillie from the mail-room walked by. "Everything alright here, doll?" she asked, glancing suspiciously at Calcifer.

"Yes," said Sophie quickly. Had Tillie heard about what happened in the stairwell? Surely she hadn't. "This gentleman, um. He's going to carry my things to my new office."

"Really? Atta girl!" Tillie's countenance brightened. "You lucky petal! We were all thinkin' of you, what with you lookin' so worried after that incident. Kim and I are pub crawling tonight, wanna come? You know, celebrate?"

"Sorry, I can't. Um... thank you, though."

"Okay, that's okay! Another time. Be seeing you, Sophie!"

"Sophie?" the red-haired stranger echoed when Tillie left. He now stared at her with those curious, amber eyes. "As in Sophie Hatter?"

"Yes?"

"Seriously?" the man exclaimed. His red eyebrows lifted, and he chuckled like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "It's like they were made for each other," he muttered.

"What?" Sophie asked worriedly.

"Nuthin', just," he coughed, "I'm Howl's extremely awesome best friend named Calcifer." He grinned. "He sent me here to set you up at the office."

Sophie gasped, "He didn't."

"Yup! Does this kinda stuff all the time, I'm tellin' ya. It burns me up! You should feel sorry for me."

Sophie giggled at the comical expression of long-suffering on Calcifer's face. "Why couldn't Howl come?" she ventured.

"He got caught up in some stuff. The man needs help."

"I'll say. His office is a disaster zone..." Sophie paled. "Please don't tell him about all this."

Calcifer hesitated. "Tell you what. I'll make you a deal. If you'll let me give Howl's office a vengeful makeover today, my lips will be sealed. However," he added gently when Sophie started to agree, "I think you should probably still tell him what's been going on. In your own time. But as your boss, he should know."

Sophie bit her lip. After a moment, she stuck out her hand.

"It's a deal."


	31. Best of Luck

**Chapter 31: Best of Luck**

 **HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE**

 _Professional Love Advice from_ Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon

 _January 25th, Entry #40_

 **Dr. Pendragon:**

I understand that publishing this love advice must fulfill some sort of weird fantasy for you, but it certainly isn't working for me. I've tried giving you the benefit of the doubt, but your poor excuse for counseling makes it too painful to even see the humor in it. Your PhD is certainly not for this. Shame on you!

 **Discontinuing,**

 **Your Ex-Reader**

* * *

 **My Dearest Ex,**

I had hoped that my shining wisdom would guide your way through the darkness that is your grasping at commitment and relationships. Alas, if this is your way of breaking up, you've missed your chance; the dock stands empty and I've already gone.

I am but a humble guide, and since you are unable to pursue my advice, then all I can do is leave bread crumbs of wisdom for you to follow when your path shadows with loneliness again. Best of luck to you in your life without me - such an existence must be too sad for words.

With the full knowledge that I will be your fondest memory,

 _ **Dr. Pendragon, your neighborhood love enthusiast**_


	32. The Stages of Grief

(9/9/16) a/n: In the middle of writing this chapter, life kicked me in the teeth when my kitty, Chai, abruptly passed away. :'( Of ALL the themes I had chosen to use - talk about coincidence. I am doing okay now, and after much introspection, I eventually decided to finish it out, for peace has found me through happy memories. For those of you who have recently lost a pet, you have my compassion. Get as many hugs as you need and know that your fluffy darling was loved being yours.

Here it is, loves! I don't normally do this, but it was fun reading this chapter while listening to "Groose's Theme" and "Silly Groose" from _The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword._

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 32: The Stages of Grief**

 **Stage 1 -** **Denial**

The next morning was Saturday.

Howl opened the door to his office and paused.

He glanced around, stepped back, and checked the room number.

Slowly, he closed the door.

He wandered down the balcony a bit.

A minute later, he returned, checked the number again, and peeked inside.

He shook his head and retreated.

The third time he came back, a feminine voice called out to him, "Howl, what are you doing?"

He poked his head inside and located Sophie. "I'm pretty sure I left my office right here."

His secretary lightly rolled her eyes. "This _is_ your office," she replied from where she was seated behind a ginormous stack of papers. At a desk. There was a second desk in there now, against the front right corner.

Howl felt like his brain couldn't function.

 _The red-tiled floor looks like a bleeding wasteland._

 _I'm going to dry up and die before I even cross the room._

 _...is that my window? No it isn't._

The window behind his desk was open. He hadn't seen it in months. He had covered it with newspapers because the freedom outside was too depressing and so he wouldn't be tempted to jump.

One day. He had been gone for one.

Day.

This could not be happening.

"Nope," Howl said. He shook his head and left.

* * *

 **Stage 2 -** **Anger**

Sophie quickly slipped out of her chair to check her mobile. It was by the window, nestled between the strikingly-hued leaves of a croton. Sophie gently moved a leaf and saw that her video was still recording. Great! Even if the angle wasn't very good, Calcifer would at least get to hear Howl's reactions.

The office door slammed. She turned to see the thundering return of a storm cloud on legs.

"Sophie!" Howl shouted.

She scooted behind his desk nervously. "Yes?"

Her boss slammed his palms down in front of her, rattling the corded phone in its cradle. In his dark purple chinos, brown shirt, and black bomber jacket, he looked like he was about to hustle her for a debt.

"Did I _not_ say I had the right to keep _my_ office the way I liked?" he demanded.

Sophie grimaced. _Calcifer, this scenario isn't nearly as funny as you told it._ "I don't recall agreeing on that..."

"So you sabotaged my whole blasted office?!"

"Sabotaged?" Now that is a bit excessive! "I daresay we salvaged this place!"

Howl's green eyes flashed. "We?" he repeated, his long fingers twitching in the air.

"Um..."

Sophie warily backed away when he circled towards her. Her heart hammered anxiously.

He reached out. She winced when he yanked open a drawer.

Screech. Shuffle. Slam. Rasp. Jostle. Bang.

Her boss made a strangled shriek of laughter after searching the entirety of his desk. "The Contest starts Monday! _Monday!_ I had everything ready - forms, invoices." Howl slid his fingers through his hair and dragged at it. "I can't believe it! This whole day is wasted because my friend is a jerk and my secretary is an obsessive perfectionist!"

Sophie's eyes widened when he stomped past her. If he was this angry, she couldn't imagine his reaction to what Calcifer had put in the cabinet!

Sophie lunged between Howl and the cabinet and almost tripped. "Wait!" she implored, pressing her hands against the compartment he was about to open, "everything is in a specific order."

"Really, Sophie? Because as I recall, that's how it used to be!"

"Calm down, Howl." Sophie looked him squarely in the eye. "I know where everything is."

"Of course you do. You did all this to make yourself indispensable."

* * *

 **Stage 3 -** **Bargaining**

 _I'll stop asking you for favors. Please... just turn my office back to normal!_

 _Is this about what happened sophomore year? Because I'm sorry. For all of it._

 _Although I thought I could trust you with this. I never should've sent you to do a_ friend's _job._

 _In fact, if you don't get your butt back here and change this now, you are never using my credit card to order pizza again!_

... A tug on his sleeve snapped Calcifer out of his darkening daydream of Howl's reaction to his prank. He blinked his eyes down at Markl.

"I finished the tutorial," the kid impatiently announced. He handed Calcifer a game controller.

"Already?" Calcifer asked, taking it.

"Yup! Can we play this all day?"

The menacing logo for the Battle for the Waste video game flashed on the screen. Calcifer scratched his head. "Yeeeah, we'll see. But when your dad gets home, I'm gonna need some help hidin'..."

* * *

Sophie tried to stop them.

She did try.

But upon seeing Howl's horrified face, the giggles just poured out of her like bubbles from a soap machine.

After that insensitive "indispensable" comment, Sophie let Howl have it. The cabinet door was now opened wide, and taped all over the inside were the "flawless" snapshots of the love doctor that Calcifer had collected over the years: cringe-worthy moments of bad hair days, rumpled clothes, crinkle-faced yawns, and awkward poses.

Sophie felt she ought to smother her amusement, but his reaction was better than she hoped!

Until Howl collapsed to the floor.

* * *

 **Stage 4 -** **Depression**

He lay motionless.

Red tiles fanned out beneath him like spilled life's blood, like rich dignity poured out to thin, and curdle, and rot.

Reality was the nightmare against which his eyelids were shut.

A cool hand touched his cheek.

Sophie's lilting voice called to him from above.

Would she bestow upon his frozen lips the kiss of life?

Would his gray angel revive this wretched soul, which now seeped slowly into the bowels of emptiness?

 _...No._

 _Not when she has seen evidence of what I truly am._

He had striven for perfection, yet Calcifer had been able to evidence those hideous shots of him. So. Many.

 _I will take Markl, and go into the Wastes and remain simply Howl._

"Leave me," Howl whispered miserably. "I'm repulsive. I see no point in continuing if I can't be beautiful."

Silence.

A rustle of clothing.

Then Sophie left.

And Howl wilted.

Minutes later... Howl still hadn't moved.

He was contemplating setting his cabinet on fire when something small and light landed on his chest: thump.

Thump.

 _Another?_

Thump.

Thump, thump.

 _Rain? Indoors?_

Thump, thump, thump...

 _The Cosmos is defying man's structures to weep upon my affliction._

The thin, slow stream of liquid was meandering up his brown-clad chest towards his face.

Wait.

His BB Cream!

Revived, Howl's eyes shot open just as water splashed against his mouth. With a splutter, he rolled out of the way and stared up at Sophie in shock.

"Will you stop being so dramatic?" she said, exasperated, shaking the last drops out of a mug.

* * *

 **Stage 5 -** **Acceptance**

"Need some help?"

Sophie peered over her stack of Contest flyers at the passing businessman. "Ah, thank you. I've got it." She gave him a winning smile.

He chuckled and waved her onward.

Sophie crested the top of the grand staircase on Red Floor and paused to breathe in weary triumph. Her boss seemed to finally be accepting his new situation, because he was making her gather all of his "lost" Contest items.

She felt slightly guilty for changing things without his permission, but he had also inconvenienced her by not showing up yesterday. He had a bad habit of inconveniencing people, actually: Calcifer, President Suliman, the security guards, and daresay his misguided fans, who waste their time following his dead-end advice.

Howl's reaction to the cabinet prank had been a bit alarming, though. She'd never met a person so neurotic about his appearance.

 _What a morning! I need to get my mobile from the window plant and send Calcifer that video._

She managed to open the door with her fingertips and wiggle herself and her stack of papers inside the office. She blinked in surprise when the load was lifted out of her arms.

Howl pressed something into her hand and took the flyers back to his desk. Sophie glanced down at the object she was holding and froze.

Her mobile.

Howl stretched back in his swivel chair with his own mobile pressed to his ear and a smug smile on his face. "It's for you," he mouthed when her mobile suddenly rang. Warily, Sophie looked down at the screen.

 _Incoming Call from... YourSexyBoss_


	33. Surprise!

a/n: Is anyone else struggling with "The Case of the Occasionally Missing Fanfiction Page Dividers?" Because it's driving me nuts.

This chapter has a fact a little late in the coming. I hope it doesn't bother any of you too much!

Thank you for the reviews, Anon, Guests, YoungMe, and angelina wonder!

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 33: Surprise!**

Sophie soon learned that Howl's dramatic penchant extended into his methods of revenge.

His mad cackling had been her first warning when she realized he had deleted her video for Calcifer.

Then Howl had sent her down to Black Floor six times for something he "just remembered."

At ten o'clock, when he suddenly announced they were going on an errand, Sophie had temporarily thwarted him by saying, quite flatly, that it'd take nothing short of magic to get her in a car with him again.

But she should have paid more attention to that shrug, because now she was chasing her boss on foot, through the city, teeth chattering against the cold chill as flurries drifted down from a leaden sky.

 _Hah! I've been through worse!_ she bolstered herself, remembering that week she had survived without heat last winter, because she couldn't pay her electric bill. But still, Sophie couldn't deny it. Howl's latest vengeance ploy was vexing her. This man was exploiting one of her biggest weaknesses: her curiosity.

Dozens of stores, numerous flyers distributed, and she still couldn't accept the fact that he looked absolutely ridiculous... and _nobody seemed to notice._

The love doctor had literally snapped on a two-foot long, bushy, yellow beard and called it a "disguise." They had just left yet _another_ store whose owner had politely accepted their stack of Contest flyers for distribution, without comment and without surprise.

It was driving Sophie bonkers!

"Sophie, let's head to the Municipal Building. Those guys need a little reminder of love in their lives."

"Sorry, s-sir, I'll have to ask my b-boss first," she chattered.

"I'm not wearing this disguise because I want to," Howl protested. He stopped at a pedestrian walkway and pressed the button to cross the street. Sophie stuffed her icy fingers deeper into her coat pockets and shuffled her toes to keep the blood flowing.

"Then why pick a n-noticeable beard if you don't w-want attention?" she said.

"Do _you_ want my attention? Are you cold, Sophie?" A twinkle lit Howl's eye as he drew close. The thick leather of his black bomber jacket immediately buffered the wind.

Sophie blushed and moved away, albeit reluctantly, from the temporary insulation. "S-Save it for your fangroup, please."

"Actually, that's exactly what I'm doing: saving _you_ from _them_ ," Howl retorted, breath steaming the air through his bushy mustache.

Sophie remained unconvinced. If Howl truly had so many fans, then why did no one recognize him? Despite the obviously fake beard, his good looks were still recognizable. Honestly, he hadn't even changed his hair!

Howl's face twisted in artificial angst. "I sense you doubting me, love. I don't think this is going to work if we don't have trust."

Sophie gaped. How did he know?

"You don't think I'm popular," the love doctor continued accusingly. The pedestrian walkway light signaled it safe to cross, so he marched out onto street, the flyer satchel bouncing against his trim hip. Sophie hurried after him and tried to ignore the stares directed their way.

"I'll prove to you my credibility," Howl assured, which did not comfort Sophie at all, "but first…" He held open a business door for her. Sophie glanced up at the sign - Gentlemen's Wearhouse - before delving past Howl into the shelter of the store.

Warmth soothed her senses. Her brown loafers suddenly stumbled when a familiar ringtone chimed into the air. Sophie felt Howl's eyes on her as she hastily tugged her mobile out of her pocket, silenced it, and read the Caller ID in confusion.

"Could I get this?" she quietly entreated, glancing up at her boss.

He trailed his fingers down his artificial beard before nodding, heading for the counter to give her some privacy. Sophie accepted the call and strode over to a wall display of dress shoes.

"Hello, Mrs. Beatrix?"

 _"Hello, petal! Sorry to call while you're at work. But I thought I'd give you as much time as possible. I have some good news! Or rather, mixed news. Er, a bit of sad news, actually. But by no means is it bad news!"_

Sophie fiddled with a price tag and smiled while her well-meaning, elderly landlord paused to murmur incoherently to herself.

"Mrs. Beatrix?" Sophie prodded.

 _"Sophie, is that your car by the postbox?"_

"I don't have a car, ma'am," Sophie said, rubbing the back of her arm.

 _"Oh yes, that's right. Sophie! I sold the house this morning! Why, I just couldn't say no. An older gentleman offered full-price for my little acre. The neighbors will think we're loonies! Can you imagine us, dear, trying to pack everything in two weeks? It's going to be hysterical! My daughter-in-law has my room all ready for me. I bet you can't wait to be free from this old lady's lock-up!"_

Sophie's mind blanked. Her heart gave one loud 'thump' before her pulse raced off.

Her landlord had sold her home and, consequently, Sophie's tiny apartment attached to the side of it.


	34. Quizzes

a/n: Cranked out this chapter like a gumball from a candy dispenser. Unless previously writing most of it doesn't count?

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 34: Quizzes**

To be fair, Mrs. Beatrix was very old. Sophie knew it had been difficult for the widow to support herself using only her retirement stipend.

The impulsivity of her landlord's decision was not startling in itself. Several months back, Sophie had been waitressing an evening shift when this elderly customer invited her to coffee. Mrs. Beatrix had overheard a bit of gossip from another waitress about Sophie's living situation and offered Sophie the apartment on the spot. Their ensuing friendship was a fond one.

Lately, Sophie had been noting, with concern, Mrs. Beatrix's growing tendency to forget her appointments. Being surrounded by family was probably the best thing for her.

Still, two weeks was awfully short notice.

The tiny apartment had been a godsend because Sophie was building her bad credit. Sophie didn't have anyone she was willing to ask to co sign for her for another place.

Her thoughts spiraled, agitated, like clothes in a washing machine.

"...ever cornered, always lie… Sophie! I need your attention right now! What good are you as my secretary if you can't protect me from stalkers?"

Sophie glanced up from the business card she had been tapping cluelessly. Howl frowned. Sophie stilled when he suddenly placed his fingers atop hers.

"Hah!" Howl cried, pulling away and brandishing the business card. "Fell for that, didn't you? Remember, Miss Hatter: I never hold hands during business hours. Quell your disappointment."

"Well, prepare yours, because there will be no _after_ hours, either," Sophie said crossly, slipping her hands underneath the round bistro table. Looking at the card in Howl's hand, she realized, to her embarrassment, that it was Justin's. She must have pulled it from the secret place in her pocket. "Please give that back."

"Only when I have your eyes and ears." Howl inspected the gilded square. "Eh. Same boring layout as usual."

Sophie couldn't resist smiling. Truly, Justin was a bit traditional.

Uh oh.

Underneath the beard, Howl's mouth corner was getting twitchy again. She wasn't sure what Howl was thinking, but after spending all morning with him, the twitching usually signaled that he was about to ask a personal question. Sophie was not about to give this scandal digger the scoop on her life.

So she hastily said, "Where are these fans I keep hearing about?"

"First, a quiz," Howl replied. "If you notice a man in a yellow suit say... named Justin, stalking me, what should you do?" He twirled the card slowly between his fingers, green eyes bright with mischief.

Sophie lifted a brow. "Um… ask him how much money he'll pay for an exclusive interview."

"Wrong!" Howl exclaimed, tossing the card onto the table. "Always tell him to shove off."

A waitress arrived with their drinks. Sophie lost Howl's attention, so she pocketed Justin's business card and looked around. Oranges and browns painted the cozy little place. The café was a branch of the Tea Room Fort restaurant located in Porthaven. She exhaled and twirled her feet under the bistro table. It was nice to rest and thaw after being outside so long. She carefully sipped her tea. It was hot and sweet.

She wasn't comfortable that Howl was paying for her, but she had forgotten her purse. Howl had eased some of her discomfort by declaring he was bound to the _Boss Duty Handbook_. First official days apparently fell under "Special Occasions."

The waitress brought a platter of spinach and cheese pastries. They ate the snacks quickly, seeing as Howl wanted to return to their errands as soon as possible. As Sophie swallowed her last bite, she looked up from her plate to find Howl watching her again. However, this time there was a depth of expression she had not seen before: the brush stroke of thoughtful concern.

In these short few days, she had seen a range of his emotions, but this latest one did not fit her current image of Howl; she had no idea why it was there or what to do with it.

She surprised both of them by suddenly leaning forward, sliding her fingers behind his ears, and yanking off his faux beard.

Howl looked astonished.

And Sophie learned why he bothered with disguises.


	35. An Unexpected Party

**Fun Fact!** This fic's style of short chapters was inspired by an Inuyasha fanfic called "Crooked Teeth" by Silver Standard Society (it's absolutely delightful - check it out when you get the chance!).

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 35: An Unexpected Party**

A gasp immediately sounded, drawing attention to the teenager dragging her friend over to Howl and Sophie's table.

"Dr. Pendragon! Oh my gosh, you're here! I can't believe it, it's like my birthday!" the girl gushed, her lovely dark skin rosy about the cheeks. She turned to her friend, who was shyly twisting her ponytail. "It's him! I told you he was hotter than Jay, didn't I?"

The second girl's face instantly reddened, and Sophie emphatically, one-hundred-percent, sympathized with her.

"Can we take a picture with you?"

Howl shrugged, grinning. "Sure!"

The spokesgirl squealed and shoved her mobile into Sophie's hands before darting in for a quick wrapping of Howl about the shoulders. Her friend followed more bashfully.

Sophie shook her head in amusement and obligingly took the picture. _So much like Lettie_.

"Okay, so we've been trying to recruit people into the PenDragonettes Club at our school, and your being here, is like, a _sign,_ " the teenager went on to sa _y. "_ Oh my gosh, could you visit us sometime? At meetings, we read your articles and cut out pictures of you and stuff!"

 _Wait… they made a group for him?_ Sophie thought, slightly disturbed.

"Dr. Pendragon?" interrupted someone during the teenager's chattering. Sophie turned to see a college-aged young man approaching. The newcomer adjusted his glasses with a nervous smile. "I saw you from across the room. Um, wow! Big fan," he said, awkwardly shaking Howl's hand. "Um… you've probably already answered this, but I was wondering if you had counsel for uh, asking... " He stopped when the waitress walked in front of him.

"You're that love doctor guy!" she gasped upon seeing Howl without the beard. "If I had known, I would've been grilling you for tips!"

The college student cleared his throat, "Excuse me, ma'am, I was in the middle of asking a question."

They all looked surprised when a middle-aged woman suddenly, and quite confidently, walked around their little group and leaned on Sophie and Howl's bistro table. Sophie pulled back with a frown.

The woman flicked her plum shawl. "Good to see you again, Howl. I need your advice. Should I sue my ex-husband for the house?"

Howl leaned back and tapped his chin. "Depends," the popular man replied.

"On?"

"On whether it has an in-ground pool."

"It does."

"Sue away!"

"Dr. Pendragon," insisted the frustrated student with the glasses, "if I could just have a moment of -" He sighed when three college girls arrived and asked to have their picture taken with Howl.

"Hey, would you photograph me, too?" someone said, tugging on Sophie's sleeve.

"Dr. Pendragon!" blurted an old man with crutches. "What age should you just give up on love?"

"Please autograph my order pad!" sang the waitress.

"What's going on?"

"That guy who writes for the _Market Review_ is here."

More people wandered over to investigate the commotion.

Howl - shaking hands, answering questions - basked in all the attention with an expression of self-indulgent triumph. Sophie, feeling decidedly exploited, wanted to splash something across that smug face, namely her cooling tea which she couldn't reach due to the pressing bodies. He had known this would happen and hadn't stopped her! The faux beard sat limp on her knees. She seriously contemplated putting it back on the vanity king just to see if anyone noticed.

She had just talked herself out of doing it when a black-haired woman slid through the crush, sat herself on Howl's _lap_ , and asked him to smile into her camera.

The sight of Howl's half-lidded eyes sent Sophie surging to her feet.

"Excuse me!" Sophie said loudly, her voice cutting through the noise. "Could I have everyone's attention?"

Puzzled eyes everywhere honed in on her. At the back of the café, the Tea Room Fort manager released a relieved sigh. The black-haired woman quietly left.

Howl did not look pleased.

Tough luck.

"Thank you, everyone, but Dr. Pendragon is on a pressing schedule, so he'll be saying goodbye to you at this time," she said.

"Who are you?" someone asked.

"I am Dr. Pendragon's secretary." Sophie held her chin high, but her confidence flickered under the weight of so many gazes. Plus Howl wasn't exactly vocalizing his support.

The teenager from the PenDragonettes pulled a receipt from her purse and scribbled on it. "Here!" she chirped, handing it to Sophie.

Sophie took it questioningly.

"Our club's email," the girl explained. "Hold onto it for Dr. Pendragon so he doesn't lose it!"

Enlightenment seemed to ripple through those gathered. Sophie uncomfortably closed her fist over the receipt. "Sure..."

Howl's laughter rang out as Sophie scrambled to collect all the paper slips thrust at her.


	36. Gratitude

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 36: Gratitude**

Lily flipped her sleek, black hair out from under her stylish jacket collar and left the Tea Room Fort's brouhaha behind her. Her purple lips were all smiles while she admired the photograph she had just snapped with Dr. Howl Pendragon.

He was so damn hot.

 _If he were any other man..._

She joined a group waiting at the street corner and pressed "send" on her mobile. Her throat hummed a pleasant tune as she adjusted her silver bracelet.

Half a beat later buzzed the expected phone call.

"Present for you!" Lily intoned cheerfully.

" _I'm sure Ben loves knowing his fiance is a faithless tease,"_ sneered the woman on the other line.

Lily's lip curled unpleasantly. _Witch_. "Don't you want to know how your former pet is doing?" She hardened her voice. Not that she held any love for her fiance, but she didn't care to be insulted.

" _Eternally."_

"He looks happy," Lily goaded. Her heels clicked across the pavement as she resumed walking.

" _He always had himself for that."_

"There was a woman with him."

" _Oh?"_

"Se-cre-ta-ry…" the black-haired woman drawled out, hailing a cab.

She could practically hear the greed exhaled through the other line.

" _Now that_ is _a present."_

Lily pulled the mobile from her ear to forward a second photograph of the susceptible-looking secretary in tasteless gray. "You're welcome."


	37. Conference

a/n: I am loving the theories, people! Ya'll are too good at this!

Note: For the record, I am NOT a business person. Seriously, even fundraisers end pitifully for me. xD I'm mainly focused on the relational/comedic elements of this story. So I apologize in advance to you business people for any botching of the specifics. If you have insight you'd like to share, I welcome it heartily!

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 37: Conference**

 _ **Meanwhile, at Suliman Corp...**_

President Suliman removed her silver-framed reading glasses and set them beside the revised contract. "We're going to need time to consider this request," she warned the young man seated across the oval conference table.

Justin Tharaldson leaned forward and adjusted his tie. "We are prepared to offer you two weeks."

Suliman felt the gazes of her Board members as she surveyed the Royal Airlines heir. Justin was a confident and intelligent young man, and she liked his good manners, which were remarkable considering his parentage.

"Thank you, Mr. Tharaldson, that is reasonable of you," she told him. "The Board and I would like to discuss this matter promptly. Shall we reconvene on Tuesday?"

"Of course, Madam President. As you wish," Justin replied with a respectful nod.

Suliman clenched her jaw against that old ache in her hip while she watched the other two Royal Airlines representatives follow Justin out of the conference room. The Board of Directors began warming the air with their concerns.

"President Tharaldson is a presumptuous man, forcing our hand like this. I say we withdraw."

"No, it's a good contract. What it offers outweighs any potential negative media coverage."

"I disagree," another woman said. "One month is barely enough time to favorably frame the publicity. If we reveal Howl Pendragon as heir now, we risk unsettling our shareholders."

"Yes, it's too soon. Knowledge of Dr. Pendragon's scandal with Madame Angelique is still lurking out there."

A man snorted. His thin index finger tapped the table. "Hasn't it already been long enough? That was over three years ago. We need this deal to get ahead of our competition."

"Even so, is Howl prepared for his role?"

President Suliman listened to the Board of Directors with a keen ear. President Gerald Tharaldson of the Royal Airlines was putting her in a delicate position by requesting that she announce her heir before sealing their business contract. Hmph, if she wasn't already aware of Gerald's lack of tact, she would be offended by his implication that he thought she could die of old age any day now.

Despite the timing of the unconventional request, Suliman had already been preparing to approach Howl. Howl's contract with her required that he willingly perform his duties as heir when the Board of Directors declared it was time.

But as Suliman lifted her hand to gain the Board's attention, she could only wonder if her grandson would resent her for it.


	38. Floor It!

a/n: By the way, I want to reassure you all that I do plan on addressing all of these open-ended scenarios. Writing this story is proving to be, uh, an interesting exercise in plot development. Every chapter idea is like a puzzle piece. Whenever I try approaching these scenarios lineally (e.g.: Sophie thinks about calling Justin, so now I'll make Sophie call Justin!), my mind starts creating all of this subtext, and then the resolution of the scenarios are shuffled throughout the story-line.

Juliastes has inspired me to say, "I am armed and dangerous, for my belt weighs heavy with Chekhov's Guns. Permission to take me into custody if they don't all go off!" xD

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 38: Floor it!**

Calcifer peeked over the armrest to catch Markl's eye. The kid stood guard on the far side of the living room, stationed in the archway leading to the covert front hallway. Markl gave him a thumbs up.

Calcifer grinned and ducked back behind the black leather armchair. This was going to be tricky. He couldn't leave Markl unattended, so he had to sneak out when Howl came back. The kid had agreed to distract his dad until Calcifer could escape but only for a price: two pounds of salt water taffy. What a glutton!

The next time Calcifer glanced over the armrest, Markl had disappeared into the hallway. There was the sound of a key in the lock.

 _Oh SHOOT, he's here!_

The red-head braced himself, gripping his knees, the muscles in his back tense.

The silence carried a minute too long. Calcifer started feeling edgy.

A muted thump sent his head swinging towards the doorway behind him. He scrambled to his feet when he saw Howl stalk into the living room from the downstairs den, wearing his scary hitman face, menacingly rolling up his sleeves. A giggle echoed from the front foyer.

"Markl, ya snitch!" Calcifer shouted.

Crashing objects, a scuffle, two giant bruises and a table-hit to the shin later, and then Calcifer was tearing for the second-story balcony. "See ya!" he cackled over his shoulder before leaping into the frigid evening air.

A jolt shuddered through him as he rolled. He spat out a piece of dry grass before taking off again, dodging through the backyard minefield of bizarre lawn ornaments and random scrap piles.

The driveway rushed into sight. Calcifer put on a burst of speed right when Howl dove around the corner in a flying tackle.

Calcifer barely dodged, pivoting sharply on his foot, causing Howl to graze his chest. Ignoring the blonde's hollering, he bolted for his already-packed jeep, threw himself behind the wheel, and reached for the keys. His hand brushed the empty ignition switch.

Calcifer panicked, searching frantically.

Movement made him look up.

Howl's teeth gleamed as he dangled a familiar key ring.


	39. The Contest is On

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 39: The Contest is On**

Early Sunday morning, Sophie awoke with a mild fever and a head that felt stuffed full of tiny thunderclouds. "I hate you so much, Howl Pendragon..." she moaned, burying her face in a pillow.

* * *

Meanwhile, Howl and Calcifer were affectionately thumping each other's backs in a wincing farewell.

After watching Calcifer's jeep vanish behind a hill, Howl limped back into his house, snagged a dry scone, and settled his sleepy self on the couch.

Tomorrow started the Contest!

* * *

Monday.

8am precisely.

Sophie set a sixteen ounce cup of black coffee, one sugar, on the center of Howl's desk before trudging over to her own workstation. The fans at the Tea Room Fort on Saturday had given her a lot more receipts to organize, but now she at least knew the origins of the seemingly random paper-slips. She wondered what Howl usually did with them.

The man himself came waltzing in a few minutes later, stopping in surprise at the sight of a clean office. Obviously, he still wasn't used to it.

The "good morning" faded from Sophie's lips when he did a double-take upon seeing her.

* * *

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Howl awaited Sophie's response as he browsed her stuttering mouth, her pink, perky nose, and her full, brown eyebrows.

Sophie crinkled her forehead. "No?"

Howl felt an unexpected pang of disappointment. Holding her wide-eyed gaze, he pulled himself off of Sophie's desk and took one backwards step. Then another.

"Let me walk by again," he announced with a lofty twirl towards the door.

* * *

Sophie's heart was pounding.

 _What in the world…?_

All she could see were those brilliant, pale blue eyes of Howl's staring into her. Good heavens, she had _not_ been expecting a stark confrontation with her boss's attractiveness this morning!

Pressing her knuckles against her mouth, she tried to squash the thoughts that were feeding her rising blush when Howl strutted back into the room.

But as he drew close, she realized something...

* * *

Howl pretended he didn't notice her until the last possible moment. This time, he did a _triple_ -take.

He was re-enacting the first contest entry he had opened, and it was so much fun already!

Sophie crossed her arms on her desk and leaned forward. Howl rather liked that wool-knit sweater she was wearing. Resting a hand on one of her paper stacks, "And now?" he gave her a moment to enjoy his profile.

She hesitated. "Come closer?" she asked.

Howl raised a brow at her unexpected request but complied. He watched, fascinated, as she blushed, pressed her lips together, and motioned him to further shorten the distance.

A gleeful grin split Howl's face. Was she meeting him halfway already?

He could hardly wait to test the other entries!

His face crumpled into a pout when Sophie pulled back before he could do anything.

"Howl..." she said, eyes narrowing, "do you wear colored contacts?"

* * *

 **"HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE" CONTEST**

 _Prompt: Use 50 words or less to describe the perfect first meeting._

Entry Submitted by: K.G.

The moment you see her, the crowd bursts into song and dance. A street-side florist generously hands you a bouquet of flowers. You expertly tapdance a romantic musical number, and when you ask her out, she says yes and gives you a kiss to seal the deal! Amen.


	40. Adequacy

**Fun Fact!** Howl's delivery of last chapter's pick-up line was based off a real experience I had with a theater major. Like Howl, the guy was teasing. Like Sophie, I didn't know that. The cad.

a/n: Oh my WORD. _Your contest entries_ \- I was sincerely blown away! It's amazing how much your personal styles shined in so few words, not to mention the creativity and diversity! I'll try to do them justice when weaving them into the story. They'll all be a little different. I hope you like what happens!

Thank you for the lovely review, Anon! I appreciate that so much! :D

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 40: Adequacy**

 ** _4 years ago…_**

Their weekly meeting now adjourned, the _Strangia Times_ newspaper staff dawdled about the studio. Those who had missed out on seating leaned against the purple mosaic walls, sharing the latest gossip with equally inclined company. Idle hands straightened reports scattered across glass tables. Someone by the presentation board made a quick game out of discarded pen caps and a foldback clip.

The floor manager eventually decided he wanted more coffee and announced as such. Catching his cue, everyone "suddenly remembered" their pressing deadlines, and the floor manager found himself scrambling to get to that coffee before anyone else.

Only one person noticed the two individuals who stayed behind... but he kept walking. It wasn't any of his business.

"What a lively gathering!" Howl laughed. "It's amazing how you Strangians work without sacrificing your souls. My professors could learn from you. I think I'm going to miss this place."

He settled back in a chartreuse armchair. His companion, an older woman, closed the studio door and sauntered over. Her shapely hips swung with each snap of her heels. She had light red hair and wore a black peplum dress which clung like ink.

"Is that the only thing you'll miss?" she murmured, voice as full-bodied as cabernet. She leaned over the back of Howl's chair and began stroking his ebony, shoulder-length locks.

Howl blushingly pulled away. "Sibyl…"

She frowned.

A sheepish smirk touched Howl's lips. "You know how particular I am about my hair." He reached up for her hand, but she lifted her nails for her inspection.

"You called me 'Madame Angelique' during the meeting," she said.

He frowned, thinking back. "Was I wrong, love? I wanted to show my respect."

"You made me sound old, Howl, like I was your mollycoddling mummy."

The twenty-one-year-old chuckled. "That," he declared, making a show of appraising her, "you are _certainly_ not."

Sibyl - given the moniker "Madame Angelique" for her decisively devilish gossip column at the _Strangia Times_ \- slid her fingers under his open collar. Her scarlet lips smiled at his quiet intake of breath.

"Sibyl..."

"You're not ashamed of us, are you, pet?" she crooned in his ear.

"...Of course not." Howl closed his eyes as her manicured fingernails drew calming circles up his throat.

"Hmm. So you enjoyed the meeting?"

"Hnn. Yeah."

"I saw you chatting with a girl. Lucie, was it?"

"Ah!" Howl's voice brightened. "Yes, she asked me to do a collaboration with her once you and I finish ours. Did you know she's the third person to ask? I think people are finally realizing my capabilities." He reached up to play with Sibyl's red curls. "I've actually been thinking about starting my own business. I wonder if I can get some references."

Sibyl tossed her head back with a silvery laugh. "Really? Howl, you can't honestly think they're interested in your _work_ ; this isn't college, precious. They just want your young flesh and blood."

Tilting his head back, Howl flashed her a puzzled smile. "They aren't vampires. And they all maintained eye contact, if that's what you're worried about."

"I doubt it. Your plain-as-moss eyes wouldn't hold much attention."

Howl flinched, surprise and hurt on his face.

Sibyl scoffed. "Stop it," she chided. "This world is tough, handsome. If you want people to completely accept you, then you'd better change a few things."

Howl leaned out of her grasp. After a few agitated seconds, Sibyl sighed and moved to situate herself on his lap.

"Fine. Do your other silly collaborations," she breathed, gliding her fingers across his tense shoulders, "just remember; I'm the only one who wants you just the way you are."

* * *

 **Present Day**

Howl looked away from Sophie's inquisitive stare. "My eyes shift color in different lighting," he replied calmly, heading for his desk.

"They were _completely_ green all day Saturday," Sophie suspiciously called.

Howl threw himself into his swivel chair. "Must've been some lighting then," he muttered. Looks like he'd be switching contact brands. They must be shirking on the quality.

He needed a distraction.

He opened his laptop with a half-hearted flick. As the desktop loaded, a rich, delicious smell hit his nose. Howl located this exciting discovery and took a testing sip.

 _Mmmm coffee..._ He closed his eyes. O _kay, I'll keep her._

Ten contest entries had arrived this morning, so Howl picked one off the pile. As a personal rule, he never read the sender's name during a contest's judging process. For this reason, he required a special paper submission format: a note card with the entrant's personal information on the back and the written submission on the front. A bit old-fashioned, but Howl had always held an appreciation for such things.

 _Oh my, some of these are going to be challenging to role-play_ , he mused upon reading the chosen entry. He glanced around. Botheration, why was his office so darn _clean_? He felt like he was in the middle of a stage production and someone had moved the props.

"Miss Secretary," he said. Sophie sent him another suspicious look. _Too much?_ "I need you to bring me that dart board."

Sophie lowered her pen and looked where he wasn't pointing. "The dart board?"

"Yes. The one with my contract pinned to it. There's some fine print I need to reexamine."

Sophie stood slowly. Howl peered at her from under his lashes and tried not to laugh at the confusion on her face.

"...make a copy like everyone else," he heard her mumble. She crossed the tiles and, darting a glance at him, reached for the target object on the wall.

It was too high, of course.

Upon her second attempt, Howl made a show of standing. "Almost there," he teased, making his way around the desk.

"Just one moment," Sophie said firmly. She hurried back behind her desk and began dragging her chair over to the white wall. Howl couldn't help admiring her stubbornness. It would have been easier for her to demand that he retrieve it himself, but his secretary continued proving to be her own brand of novelty.

He reached her by the time she had climbed onto the chair and grabbed the dart board's thick, red edges. That thing was actually pretty heavy. When she lifted it off its hook with a tiny huff, Howl quickly stretched out his hands to catch the dropping weight. The two of them staggered to balance the board between them.

Sophie's eyes shot to his.

"What color are your eyes really?" she blurted.

Howl's smile stiffened. "Are you usually this nosy?" he huffed, tugging the dart board from her grasp and bracing it against his chest. Sophie flushed.

"Do you usually avoid giving straight answers?" she retorted, fisting a hand on her hip.

Both of them glared.

Howl's brow furrowed when he noticed Sophie's wan complexion. "Are you sick?"

"Yes. It's what happens when you run around for hours in the cold," she sniffed. "Now is there something productive you'd like me to work on, or would you prefer to verbally spar all day, Mr. Pendragon?"

"Doctor," Howl corrected, starting to feel annoyed. At least when he had been working in solitary confinement, he hadn't been forced to deal with a jail warden.

As she rejected his offer to help her down, a disquieting thought crept into his head. Had Sophie known about the contacts for a while? Was that partly the reason for the disapproving looks, the suppressed frustration he normally liked to tease out of her? Did she know and find him lacking?

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He needed to calm down. Otherwise today wasn't going to be fun at all.

Quickly, he strode to his desk and tossed down the dart board. A notification flashed on his laptop's desktop. He leaned over and tapped the touch pad. The newest email was titled "Contract," but the message was so brief, he didn't bother opening it:

 **It's time. We need to talk. -Grandma**

Howl shut the lid.

"I do have a job for you today," he finally answered Sophie, observing her. Bundled in a wool sweater. Face drawn. Nose pink. Eyes determined.

As Howl stared at her, a surprising thought came: how often had he seen her smile?

* * *

 **"HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE" CONTEST**

 _Prompt: Use 50 words or less to describe the perfect first meeting._

Entry Submitted by: bearythebear

She was too short to reach the top shelf at the supermarket. He reached up to grab it for her and their hands touched. Their eyes met. Sparks flew. They knew they were meant to be.


	41. Coffee Mate

a/n: Thank you, Lizardsmtoao, for dropping that sweet review!

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 41: Coffee Mate**

Though the wooden diner booth felt too rigid be comfortable, and the window leaked a disagreeable chill, Sophie thought the coffee shop's free refills were worth the discomfort.

She was on her third cup of the night. The apartment hunt was not going well, so Sophie was enjoying the closest thing she presently had to companionship. Coffee seemed agreeable enough. It steamed but didn't rant. When her fingers were cold, its warmth pressed comfortingly against her hand. Yes, holding a coffee mug was like having a hand hug...

Sophie sniffed a little and sighed. Although accustomed to these solitary ventures, she really hoped she'd have Wi-Fi at her next apartment. Being surrounded by socializing people only heightened her loneliness, and she had other things to consider than Lettie's next holiday, which was likely when she'd be seeing her little sister again.

Correction: _younger_ sister. Lettie's dress for her school dance had been a far cry from childlike.

Her thoughts were deep in the correlations between eldest siblings and parenting when someone said, "Excuse me."

When Sophie turned, her heart abruptly yo-yoed between her throat and stomach upon discovering the speaker was Justin.

He smiled down at her. "Mind if I sit here?"

Her stumbling mind grasped for useful words as Justin slid into the opposite side of the diner booth. "Justin! Hi..."

"I had popped in for a minute and thought, 'Is that Sophie's braid I see?'" Justin laughed good-naturedly. A hot cup in hand and wearing a clean, lavender suit, he looked like he had just stepped out of a business magazine.

Sophie's heart began stirring that old, familiar tempo. She tried to keep her internal struggle off her face. _Act normally. You're past this, remember?_

Her former crush smiled at her warmly. Warm as coffee. "I'm sorry our last meeting was so brief."

"Um, no, that's okay!" The realization that she still hadn't called him burned its way to her cheeks. "I'm sorry I never contacted you. Things got a bit busy..."

Justin waved her off. "That's completely alright. I'm seeing you now, aren't I?" His gray eyes regarded her over his cup's rim as he sipped his drink.

Sophie found herself staring as well. There was so much new maturity to Justin, it was conflicting with her sense of familiarity.

Social awareness interrupted, and Sophie and Justin smiled in embarrassment before simultaneously asking, "How've you been?"

A sparkle lit Justin's eye. "Ladies first. What has the life of Sophie Hatter been like these past years? College, careers, anything, I must know!"

Though unintentional, his well-meaning words roused in Sophie a familiar sense of smallness, and her smile wavered. She didn't want to appear disappointing, but what could she say? That she had quit college to repay her deceased father's medical debts, and instead of expanding the Hatter's Boutique, she blew her savings on a move to the city after a falling-out with her mother? That she was only a secretary due to a scandal, and her most recent, long-term job title had actually been "floor mouse"?

She rubbed her upper arm and laughed awkwardly. "I don't know where I'd start. I'd much rather hear about you."

"I suppose that was a rather broad question," Justin admitted.

"Are you in town for business?" she asked, wrapping her hands around her mug.

"Yes. My father wants to renegotiate the terms of our lease with the Suliman International Airport, and I'm here until we reach a settlement everyone agrees on. However, it seems like your company's Board likes keeping their heir's identity a secret…"

Justin trailed off, and Sophie, who had stilled at the mention of the heir, turned to trace his gaze to a large man in light gray shadowing the shop door.

Justin closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Soph. It looks like I'll be cutting our reunion short again." He smiled apologetically. "My father's become protective over the years, believe it or not. That gentleman by the door happens to be a member of my security team who does not appreciate my being off-schedule."

Sophie shook her head. "I hope I didn't keep you."

"Of course not!" Justin looked thoughtful. "Wait one moment."

He got up and walked to the barista's counter. Sophie subtly straightened her wool sweater, thankful for this time to gather her thoughts, before Justin returned with a drink to-go.

"For my security guard," he boasted, sliding back into the booth. "Now I'll be on his good side."

"I can't imagine you being on anyone's bad side," replied Sophie honestly.

"Says one of the most favorable, kind-spirited people I know." He rested his hand beside hers. "Can I treat you to lunch tomorrow? I'll be at Suliman Corp., and it'd be nice to have a friendly conversation before facing stuffy meetings all afternoon."

Sophie's cheeks pinked. _Just as friends._ "S-Sure. Food would certainly be more filling than coffee."

Justin grinned. "Tomorrow, then."

* * *

 **"HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE" CONTEST**

 _Prompt: Use 50 words or less to describe the perfect first meeting._

Entry Submitted by: Timber Wolf of Purity

Coffee shop —

You're alone. Again. Sipping coffee, ignoring the bustle, focusing on anything but your obvious singleness.

"Excuse me?"

You look up.

"Can I sit here?"

"Sure," you nod.

The two of you hit it off. One coffee turns to five. Five cups turn to five words—they lived happily ever after.


	42. Agreement

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 42: Agreement**

"Sophie."

She looked up from the giant memo calendar she had been filling.

"I need you to take these letters down to the post room."

Sophie nodded and set down her pen.

A small twinkle lit Howl's eye as he watched his secretary take the letters from his hands and head out the door. Sophie looked exceptionally tired today, and he hoped what she found down there would cheer her.

The love doctor adjusted the sequined, cobalt sleeves of his blazer before curiously wandering over to Sophie's desk. Unsurprisingly, her space looked tidy. Even the tea bag in her quarter-full mug had been arranged to dangle perpendicularly to the mug handle. He leaned close to read a short list of addresses sitting on her desk corner. They weren't from any of the contest sponsors.

Howl frowned and traced it with his fingers. Some of these places were in bad areas.

He glanced up when someone knocked, but the door opened before he could say anything. A bulky, bored-looking man with a ginormous mustache stepped inside and stared at him.

Howl sighed. "Hello, Heen. Before you drag me to my fate, I need a favor."

* * *

Down on Black Floor, the mail sorters were in a frenzy. It took Sophie four tries to stop someone to take Howl's letters. She rubbed her sleep-exhausted eyes as she passed the locker room and wondered if lunchtime could come faster.

"Sophie!" someone called.

Sophie spotted Tillie leaning out the break room doorway. Curious, she walked over at the woman's insistence. "Yes...? Oh -"

"Congratulations!"

To Sophie's surprise, she found herself surrounded by a small crowd of well-wishers. They cheered and waved as Tillie grabbed her arm and pulled her over to the kitchenette counter. Sophie covered her mouth at the sight of a yellow-frosted creme cake with her name on it.

"Since you're always workin' so hard, we thought we'd bring the celebration to you," Tillie explained with a grin. "Congratulations on your promotion, our former number one floor mouse!"

Overwhelmed, Sophie shook her head. "I don't know what to say."

"Then cut that cake!" someone exclaimed eagerly.

"Yeah, I missed breakfast, I'm drooling!"

With Tillie passing out the plates, Sophie sliced the yellow cream cake with the pocketknife someone had handed her. It was a bit messy, but it felt good to be serving people again.

"So what's your new job been like?" Kim asked her.

"Um... strange. Nothing is ever scheduled," Sophie shyly answered. Everyone laughed. They were well aware of Howl's spontaneity.

"Any exciting inside scoops on Corporate?"

"Would you put in a word to the president that I'd like a cruise ship for my next raise?"

Sophie tried to answer everyone's questions. "Um… I actually don't often see anyone from Corporate, it's sort of, uh, lifeless up there, you know? Yes, every day. And the water fountains don't pour red wine, no."

Tillie laughed, "Alright, everybody, hold your questions for a few moments. As you all know, there are a few people who are awfully jealous of Sophie here. In fact, some of you are in this room."

Sophie quickly stared down at her plate, twirling her plastic fork in the frosting.

"Okay, most of us, actually," Tillie confessed, and some people chuckled, "but... While we might not all know Sophie well on a personal level, she's always been a fantastic team player, so kind. The person everyone both wants and dreads to share a shift with because, you know she'd do two-hundred percent of her share, but she also expects you to do a proper job as well!"

More laughter. Sophie lifted her eyes as Tillie saluted her with a frosting smeared fork. "So, since our company won't let us sneak in champagne, I'm goin' to keep this speech to a decent size by saying Sophie, we are genuinely happy for you. If you ever get bored of Red Floor and smellin' like Howl's hairspray, we'll be down here waitin'. Don't go forgettin' us, 'kay?"

Nods of agreement followed Tillie's short speech.

Sophie felt her eyes begin to tear up. "Thank you," she said.

* * *

Howl tossed his grandmother's glass paperweight. "It's still too soon. Markl's not ready for this kind of exposure."

"This is why I advised you to wait a few years on that adoption," his grandmother replied.

Howl glared. "Children don't work like business contracts."

"You did," Suliman answered just as steely. "You willingly renewed our agreement when you turned twenty-one. The Board and I have already exhausted discussing our theoretical options. Unless you can think of some other way, you must accept this."

Howl leaned against the mahogany-paneled wall beside her desk and closed his eyes. He heard his grandmother huff when he held his silence too long.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes and plunked the paperweight back on her desk, where it glinted in the light. "Fine, I have a proposal."


	43. Shift

a/n: Happy New Year, you lovable lot! Thank you, Guest and Izardsmtoao, for your sweet reviews!

 _Writing theory of the day -_ _writer's block can stem from boredom?_

I've been playing with this theory that I sometimes struggle with a chapter because I'm bored with it. My brain is like, "What do you expect me to do with this dry toast?" Changing something seems to help... like the entire scene, for example, haha!

* * *

 **Chapter 43: Shift**

 **HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE**

 _Professional Love Advice from_ Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon

 _February 9th, Entry #35_

 **Dear Mr. Pendragon:**

I think I'm in love with two people.

I've loved this one person for months and months. We have a steady burn, you know? But then recently, I met this other person. Instant sparks! What am I supposed to do with these feelings? I didn't even fall out of love or anything first. But what I really want to know is if you think I can make it work with both of them. Because I think I can. Who made the rule you could only love one person, am I right?

 **Hopeful,**

 **Dual Lover**

* * *

 **Dear Double-Dipper:**

I have been in your situation. Feels nice, doesn't it? Two beautiful people making eyes at you like you're an exotic fish from the depths of the Amorous Sea. Until the day of discovery arrives. That's when you realize you've been dating not people but cats.

By the time your water stops swirling, you've got five kinds of skin break-outs, backstories fit for a criminal investigation, barely enough money for a shrink, and a phobia of calling anyone by the incorrect name.

If you're not terribly concerned for your precious skin or mental health, then by all means, suffer in the name of love! But I do suggest you stick with one person to start. When that doesn't work out, you'll already have a rebound. It's that simple.

 ** _Dr. Pendragon, your neighborhood love enthusiast_**

* * *

"Thank you, come again!"

 _Could it be this simple?_

Sophie touched his arm, her brown eyes apologetic. "I forgot something."

 _Is there a woman named Destiny with a gentle hand?_

Sophie's slender fingers waltzed over buttons, sealing her jacket.

 _Because something has shifted into place, like my world had been tilted..._

Justin opened the restaurant door for her.

 _...but now my dreams are suddenly on a straight path before me._

The afternoon air swooped on them with a gusty, unseasonably warm wave as Sophie commented about the coming rain. Their feet strolled in unison across the city sidewalks as they headed back to Suliman Corporation. Two bodyguards followed at a respectful distance.

Justin resisted holding Sophie's hand by stuffing his own in his suit pocket. Spending time with Sophie today had been wonderful, felt so natural. Anticipation to see where this lead was stirring in him, but he wanted this to be perfect. He would do things correctly this time.

"Thank you for treating me," the woman of his musings said shyly.

Justin smiled down at her. "It was my absolute pleasure." And he planned on treating her again, only next time somewhere expensive so he could see her in another A-line evening dress.

The Royal Airlines heir subtly checked his watch. Good, he still had enough time before his first meeting.

"Are you running late?" Sophie asked.

"Oh no, we'll actually be right on time. Are you?" Not that Justin minded inconveniencing Howl. The writer certainly deserved it after his tardiness record.

"Um, I'm actually not sure..."

"Oh?"

"I've only been working for Howl for a week, see."

Justin's eyes widened. He turned to her. "Really?"

Sophie nodded and rubbed her arm.

Relief loosed Justin's soul, and he grinned. "Why don't we set a precedence for him then?"

* * *

But fifteen minutes later, as they stood there with Howl glancing tiredly between them, Justin's long-time rival did something unexpected.

"Looking forward to working with you," Howl said simply, shaking Justin's hand, before gliding out the office door.

Justin swore he had seen the faintest smirk on Howl's face.


	44. Downpour

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 44: Downpour**

Sophie's fingernails were beginning to ache from being pressed against the counter. "Can't you please make an exception for me?"

"Yeah, I'm real sorry, doll, but I just can't afford to take risks," the property manager shrugged, "not with this economy. Ya either got the money now or ya don't. Come back when you do. No guarantees, but I might still have an openin'."

Sophie reluctantly nodded and withdrew.

Out in the evening rain, she moaned her frustration into her damp jacket sleeve.

If only her paycheck came in sooner...

If only she wasn't moving in ten days...

Glumly, she wrapped an arm around her middle and gazed past the edge of her dribbling umbrella. Few people were on this quiet block, which sat under the mute haze of rainfall. Smattered puddles on the empty road glistened under the orange streetlights. Steam drifted up from the sewer drains.

Her resilient loafers, originally bought for her waitress job, started carrying her back to the bus stop. _Maybe I need to lower my standards._ Her mother had always accused her of being too stubborn.

 _Maybe I should ask for help._

The image of Howl's, or Tillie's, or worse yet, Justin's face contorting in pity made her heart twist. Seeking help with something she should be more than capable of handling on her own just seemed lazy.

 _Brace up, Sophie._

The dark sky rumbled. Rain began falling in earnest. Glancing both ways, Sophie clung to her umbrella and scurried across the street, smashing through puddles that soaked her socks.

As she reached the opposite curb, she slipped.

Someone caught her shoulders.

Sophie felt like an absolute idiot. Wiping water from her eyes, she barely managed to thank the person - a bored-looking man with a bushy, drooping mustache - before snatching her fallen umbrella.

Why was being an adult so hard sometimes?

* * *

 **"HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE" CONTEST**

 _Prompt: Use 50 words or less to describe the perfect first meeting._

Entry Submitted by: Aki no Ryu

Dashing across the street due to the sudden downpour, she misses the curb and slips. Her downward trajectory is arrested by warm hands firmly clasping her shoulders. She looks up to thank her rescuer and is arrested by the warmest eyes she's ever seen. "Are you alright, Miss?"


	45. Messages

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 45: Messages**

 _Today 12:30 PM_

 **AgentHound:** Weekly Intelligence Report

Person of Interest spotted at following T & L:

18:45 TUE - Vale End Gardens

17:06 WED - Magic Village Homes, Unlisted

17:22 THR - Townhouse Residence, Unlisted

19:05 THR - Kingsbury Square Apartment Complex

Perceived Objective: residence acquisition

Current Residence Status: 418 Skyfold Avenue; Sold by Owner, Beatrix Clarke

Lease: Non-Contractual. Termination in 9 days

* * *

Howl raised a brow at Heen's text.

Sophie only had 9 days to move?

Poor thing... No wonder she had been talking to her stapler earlier.

He glanced towards his secretary's desk. Sophie had commandeered a secondary office phone from storage and had been pleasantly conversing with his sponsors all morning.

Howl propped his chin in his hand and watched her. _How did you come to live in the city, little mouse?_ She had backbone, but she lacked a city native's edge. Didn't she realize how dangerous it could be, visiting residences by herself? That is, unless Justin was going with her.

Howl scoffed. Doubtful. Lunch straight to house-shopping together? Sophie didn't seem the type. And Turnip Head was hopefully busy hopping around trying to discover the identity of Suliman Corp's "mystery heir."

 _Fortunately, Grandma agreed to my plan. I've slung a millstone around my own neck and asked her to push me down a hill._

He queasily touched the manila folder lying by his elbow.

Oh yes, he and Sophie were soon going to be absolutely swamped. One didn't quietly declare a corporate heir with his kind of past.

Sophie hung up the phone and covered a tiny yawn.

Howl's fingers twitched.

At least there was always time for another contest entry, right?

* * *

The window croton looked a little droopy, and Sophie had gotten up to water it when Howl squawked loudly.

Hand on heart, whirling towards her boss, she felt a rush of annoyance followed closely by concern (present in case Howl was actually in trouble, such as if he had seen a spider; she imagined he'd be the squirming sort).

Howl angrily rolled over in his swivel chair. "Why were these in the trash?" the sitting man fumed, dangling marked-up, crinkled contest entries from his fingers.

Sophie looked at him quizzically. "You said the entries had to be 50 words or less."

"So?"

"Those were more than 50 words."

Her eyes widened in fascination when Howl literally slapped his own forehead.

"We can edit them!" he barked.

* * *

 _ **Five minutes later...**_

"Back to Blue Floor," Sophie muttered darkly.

Get in, get out. Complete one simple errand. Just an excuse for Howl getting a breather? Most likely. Fine by her. Maybe she wanted one, too!

She double-checked her sticky-note: Roger, Desk 26.

Roger was familiar to her after two years of emptying his waste bin. He looked like the journalist archetype: slacks, rolled up sleeves, loose tie, neatly clipped sideburns. The only thing missing was a cigar.

"Hello, sir. Howl asked me to give you this," she told him, handing over a manila folder.

Roger stopped typing and accepted it. "Did he? Hm. Tell that melodramatic to drag his lazy ass down here sometime. I miss having that extra smidge of testosterone." He leafed through the folder's contents and stopped. His eyes widened, and he whistled lowly. "Well. This is unexpected."

"Roger is flummoxed? It must be a holiday!" said a nearby woman. She left her desk to peer her dark eyes over Roger's shoulder. "What is this? Is it from Howl?" She pouted when Roger abruptly shut the papers from sight.

"I don't see the name "Marianne" on this," he snorted.

Marianne plucked a pen out of her hair. "That's an easy remedy."

Sophie silently crept away. The path back to the elevator seemed long and exposed. Out of habit, she sought out the probable locations of William and Jameson.

She almost walked into the arm that thrust itself into her path.

"Oi, Miss Mouse, where have you been?" the arm's owner said. It was the editor who sat at Desk 2. "You got a sec?"

Déjà vu washed over Sophie as she awkwardly accepted the man's empty teacup. _What should I do? Maybe he doesn't know. I don't want to embarrass him..._

The staff room water pot hadn't moved from its usual spot. Despite her tight clutch on the handle, no one tried swiping it.

However, just as she was handing the teacup back to its owner...

"Is that for me?" a familiar voice said loudly.

Sophie watched, horrified, as Howl snatched the teacup from her hand and raised it to his mouth.

"Wait, that's mine!" the editor protested.

Howl froze a mere inch from malady. His eyes darted between her and the editor.

"Ah. I see there's been some confusion." Howl lowered the drink and smiled stiffly. "Miss Hatter is part of the Corporate Department. In the future, please take your diversions to the appropriate staff member and refrain from wasting my secretary's valuable time."

The editor's red face was the only indication he had heard.

The local hush revealed everyone else had as well.

Their return elevator ride was quiet but not strained.

"Sophie, from now on, don't serve drinks to anyone but me."

For once, she had no objections.


	46. Approach

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 46: Approach**

 _ **10 years ago...**_

"You're Howl Jenkins."

"The fabulous only, ma'am."

 _His eyes..._

"You're Mairwen's child."

The boy's brilliant smile steeled. "You know," he drawled, crinkling his gold nylon vest as he leaned on the warehouse crate, "the last two social workers brought more than just one lap dog."

Suliman smiled. "Heen doesn't bite potential business partners."

"Oh? Cool. What are you selling?"

Suliman nodded to her assistant. Heen stepped forward with the package, but he stopped when that red-haired Alberian boy beside Howl sprung to his feet.

"What's in the package?" the red-haired boy warned, slipping his hand into his ratty coat pocket.

"Howl's future," Suliman stated calmly.

* * *

 _ **Present day...**_

 _If you hadn't left me, Mairwen, your old mother wouldn't be working like this._

"Enter."

The chief security officer stepped into her office, and President Suliman closed her laptop screen.

"Report," she said.

"Incident of larceny on the first floor," answered the officer.

"Secondary motivation?"

"None discerned. An unaffiliated party."

Suliman drummed her fingers. "Good. What else?"

"Third floor suffered a machine malfunction. Mrs. Marshall followed fire safety protocol, so contacting the fire department proved unnecessary."

"Good heavens."

"We also intercepted a suspicious person infiltrating the second floor."

"Who was their target?"

"Howl Pendragon."

"I see... That concludes your report?"

"It does."

Once the double-doors closed, Suliman pulled her medication bottles out of her desk drawer. The pills left a bitter taste on her tongue after she swallowed them dry. "I could use a cigarette," she muttered.

Beside her, Heen coughed.

Suliman chuckled. "Don't be concerned. Unlike you, I don't smoke until I develop polyps and need surgery." She returned to her laptop. The gentle sounds of keys clacking filled another few minutes of quiet.

Someone knocked on the door again.

Suliman rubbed her temple. "Any odds that's my event manager?"

Heen chuffed a laugh.

"Enter," Suliman called. She arched a brow at her surprise visitor. "Miss Hatter, can I help you?"

"Good afternoon, Mrs. President," the girl politely greeted while coming forward to stand beside the visitor's chair. She flicked a puzzled glance at Heen before saying, "Howl said you asked to see me?"

Suliman found herself clenching her jaw. _That boy..._ "I'm afraid you've been misinformed. The person I requested was Howl himself."

Exasperation crossed the girl's face, but she tried to conceal it. "Would you like me to take a message?"

"Yes. Tell Howl I want him in my office _immediately_."

"I'm afraid he's already left for the day, ma'am."

"What? Does he do this often?"

Sophie hesitated. "He's certainly a busy man," she vaguely offered.

Suliman waited for her to elaborate, but all the secretary added was, "I'm sorry for this inconvenience. If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."

 _Hmph. Well, at least she shows discretion._

The air by the president's shoulder shifted when Heen leaned forward to point to an open document on her screen.

The Corporate Winter Gala next Saturday.

Hmm…

He had a point.

In fact, this might be even better.

"Miss Hatter, I hope you like parties."


	47. Recruit

a/n: I'm back from working on TSAH! I got to step back and make sure this was still on the right path... which I now realize is through a garden maze with awkward statues, a brass quintet, and no visible end.

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 47: Recruit**

Markl solemnly studied each member of his army. They puffed their chests proudly and waited for his, the Wizard King's, judgment.

"Hagan," Markl finally declared. "You're gonna be the Dragon."

Hagan jumped into a crouch and growled, curling his fingers into claws. "I'm gonna barbecue me some soldiers!"

Markl pointed to the twins. "Theo and Fin, Werewolfs!" They grinned.

"I wanna be the Fire Demon!" Alex said, making her eyes really big in that annoying way girls do.

Markl sighed. "Fine."

Lucas scowled. "Not fair, I haven't been the Fire Demon yet!"

"Yeah, Alex has to be the Waste Witch!" Hagan said, crawling over. The twins jumped on his back. The three collapsed onto the mulch.

"Yeah! You're the only girl, so you have to be the Witch!" Lucas said.

"But I was the bad guy last time," Alex whined. Markl frowned. What was the point of having a cool army if there were no bad guys to defeat?

Tapping his chin like he saw his dad do sometimes, he looked around the playground for other girls to play. Happiness filled him when he spotted a familiar pretty lady reading on a bench.

He ran to her. "Sophie!"

"Hi Markl!" she said with a smile that made him feel full of bubbles.

 _She remembers my name_ , he thought in awe.

"What are you reading?" he asked, feeling a little shy. He climbed onto the bench and peered at the magazine she showed him. He wrinkled his nose. "Dresses?"

Sophie laughed. "Yes. Not very interesting, is it?"

"You can play with us! We're playing Battle for the Waste, and I'm the Wizard King!" Markl said eagerly.

"Oh, you must be _very_ powerful!"

Markl felt highly important, as any Wizard King should, so he pulled her over and introduced her to his friends. He could tell they liked her, too.

"Excuse me, lady, are you gonna be our Waste Witch?" Hagan asked.

Markl was going to tell him no, that Sophie was nice, but then Sophie grinned.

"Oh yes, I'm the scariest witch of them all," she said in a creaky sort of voice that immediately had Markl and his friends wriggling in excitement. They shrieked as she swept her pretend broom across their feet. "The kind that cleans!"

* * *

Howl stopped the car at a red light and smiled in amusement. "That's a nice little song you're humming there, Markl."

His son bounced happily. "Sophie taught me it!"

Howl looked at him in shock.

"You've met Sophie?"

"Yeah, dad, I already told you about her. She's so cool!"

His son proceeded to paint this swashbuckling image of a woman dashing about the playground, chasing him and his friends with her invisible broom and soap spells. Howl's eyebrows climbed higher and higher on his forehead as he tried to reconcile his Sophie with Markl's.

His timid secretary, cackling?

His serious secretary, having fun within sight of other adults?

The car behind him blared its horn. Howl snapped back into awareness and accelerated through the now green light.

He shook his head.

Must be a different Sophie...


	48. Conundrum

a/n: Tryin' to hustle this section of the story line along! I'll admit, it's been a bit tricky. Hope everyone's doing well!

Thanks for your review, J.C! :D

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 48: Conundrum**

Laughing breathlessly, Sophie shut her apartment door and threw herself onto her jade green love seat. The playground children must be wizards because she had skipped halfway home without realizing her face was plastered with a silly smile. They were absolutely adorable, especially that boy Markl, and she'd have happily taken them home with her if it weren't illegal.

 _Things you don't admit aloud,_ she mused, using her heels to pry off her loafers. She paused when her mobile rang. Reaching across the couch, she slid the device out of her purse.

 _Incoming Call from... YourSexyBoss_

Her mouth fell open. She had forgotten to change it!

Embarrassed, she tried to control her panting so she could at least sound a semblance of professional.

"H-Hello, this is Sophie," she breathed.

There was the customary pause but no answer. She leaned on the armrest and wrapped an arm around her gray middle. "Howl?"

 _"…Sophie?"_

"Yes?"

Another long pause.

Sophie's brow furrowed. "If this is some sort of prank, I'm hanging up."

 _"No, don't do that,"_ her boss hastily assured. _"Yeah. Um..."_

Sophie suddenly realized what this was about.

"Yes, I survived the meeting that _you_ were supposed to attend," she informed him wryly. "President Suliman told me about the company's upcoming Corporate Gala. She said you couldn't go? She, um, asked me to represent you." She gnawed her lip as she recalled the president's stringent list of expectations.

 _"She what?"_ Howl exclaimed. Sophie was startled by the anger in his voice. She listened anxiously to his rapid mutterings until he said, _"Give me a minute,"_ and hung up.

Sophie stared at her mobile in confusion.

* * *

 _Damn it!_ Howl cursed, pacing around his downstairs den.

Wasn't it enough that he was complying? Now he had to be front and center, too? Don't get him wrong, he thrived on drama, just not the kind which broadcasted his future internment and rubbed his past mistakes in his face, repeatedly.

Well, the old hag was overestimating his sense of responsibility. And Sophie could weather manic fans; being alone in a room full of political business elites shouldn't phase her. Howl briefly entertained the image of his secretary in a dull grandma dress, drifting from person to person like a little rain cloud, blackening his name...

...Wait.

He stumbled mid-step.

WAIT.

Hope pierced him, sharp and light.

His contract stated that he only had to _willingly_ perform his duties as heir when it was time. But what if the Board of Directors rejected him? Grandma would have no choice but to annul their contract!

Justin was going to be at the gala.

"Damn it!" Howl sat down on his old scarlet chaise lounge and slid his fingers through his hair. He needed to call Sophie back, but at the moment, he had no idea how to talk to her because she had an unexpectedly sexy phone voice and apparently spent her afternoons chasing kids, if her panting was anything to go by.

He pictured the gala again.

He shot Sophie a quick text: Meet me at the Kings Center Mall in two hours. EMERGENCY. (work-related!)


	49. Array

a/n: 100 faves? (twirls around aimlessly and trips) Thank you so much, everyone! I didn't think this day would come! :D

J.C - Thanks, doll! :D And yes, I appreciate you asking! These past few weeks were filled with many unexpected events (including the engagement of my sister, woot woot!) on top of personal writing difficulties, so this story got away from me for a bit.

* * *

 **Chapter 49: Array**

 **HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE**

 _Professional Love Advice from_ Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon

 **Your Daily Love Bite**

It is arrogant of a man to style a woman.

...Unless he knows what he's doing.

* * *

Sophie stood on her tiptoes. "Do you see me now?"

 _"Hold on, I think I'm on the wrong side of the mall. You said lion statues, right?"_

"Yes." Sophie squinted at the shoppers streaming up into the second story, palace-like entry of the Kings Center Mall. "And I'm at the bottom of a giant staircase," she added.

 _"Giant staircase. Right. Thank you for only now deciding to share that extremely useful information."_

Sophie rolled her eyes. "See you soon," she said before hanging up on Howl. She tightened her jacket and rocked on her heels, wondering what this "professional emergency" entailed. At least this time she was prepared: fed, warmly bundled, and armed with a pad of paper in case she had to document anything for potential police questionings.

"There you are," Howl huffed.

Sophie turned.

She froze.

Fedora.

Gray tie.

Sleek, white trench coat.

Iron-tipped cane.

And a short ponytail? Was he wearing hair extensions?

Howl cleared his throat and arched a brow behind tilted, tinted shades. Sophie knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it!

He looked like a mob boss!

"I'm sorry, sir, I seemed to have forgotten the 'special package'?" she commented, inching up the giant stairs.

"Not that way. That's what tourists take." He motioned for her to follow. Sophie cautiously trailed him to a base floor entrance, where he opened the automatic doors with a grand wave of his cane.

"The beauty of modern-day technology," he grinned as they stepped on an escalator. He leaned back against the railing. "Oh by the way, _you_ are the package."

* * *

It was a breeding ground.

A nest of tulle that met chiffon and produced a thousand polychromatic babies, which were guarded by rows of headless, armless ladies glittering beneath blinding white lights.

And the Mob Boss had just offered her to them as a hostage incentive.

Sophie whirled on Howl. "I thought you said this was a work emergency!"

"It is, the Corporate Winter Gala is only a week away and you still need a dress!" Howl propelled her towards the beaming sales consultant. "Don't worry, this is part of the company budget. The lovely lady here is going to pick out some things for you to try on."

"This isn't in my job description," Sophie tried.

"Represent the company," Howl mouthed, giving her a thumbs up.

As Sophie was dragged off, the implications of her situation sank into her stomach.

 _So Howl doesn't think I have good taste?_

* * *

The love doctor congratulated himself as Sophie vanished into the sea of formal dresses. He'd been worried she wouldn't agree to this little shopping excursion, but a little bit of professional misdirection seemed to have done the trick.

Of course, there was no way the company was paying for these gowns, but Sophie didn't need to know that. Howl would happily lay down a chunk of money if it meant assuaging his conscience and seeing Sophie dressed up before Justin did.

Or seeing Sophie dressed up at all, actually.

Humming, he pranced off to inspect the accessories.

* * *

Sophie gaped at her reflection.

"Are you dressed, honey?" the sales consultant asked.

"N-Not quite." _Good heavens, I'm practically spilling out of this thing!_ She awkwardly grabbed hold of the bodice and tried dragging it upwards, but it barely budged.

"Try this one on next," the sales lady said, passing a gown over the stall door.

A few minutes later…

 _These designers must secretly hate women._

She unzipped the red dress with a gasp and rubbed her aching ribs. A few more potentials hung from the rack, some gorgeous, some odd, all twinkling wickedly on their hangers.

Maybe what didn't suit these dresses was _her_.

"They didn't work," she quietly told the sales lady, returning yet another failed attempt.

"Don't you worry, I've got just the thing."

Sophie's fragile hope morphed to dread at the sight of the next garish, low-cut concoction.

 _This is the absolute worst._

* * *

 _This is the best_ , Howl thought.

He hadn't shopped with a girl in ages, not since four weeks ago with that Freya from the flower shop. He wondered what Sophie's fashion taste was like. Classy? Game for a little cleavage?

 _She's probably trying everything on over her uniform_ , he thought in amusement.

The changing stalls were stationed in a brightly lit back room with carpeted floors. A short runway with mirrors consumed the far end.

"Sophie." He lightly rapped his cane on the wall to signal his approach.

"H-Howl?"

He located her stall and leaned against the door. "Having fun yet?"

"Well... Um, is the sales consultant out there?"

"I didn't see her."

"Oh."

Fabric rustled inside the stall. Glancing around the room, Howl caught the eye of an old woman and tipped his fedora with a wink. The old woman tittered and waved him away.

When Sophie spoke again, she was quiet. "Thank you for bringing me here but... I'd like to go home now."

Howl straightened at the thick quality of her voice. She was upset? "Did the consultant say something to you?" he asked carefully.

"No, s-she's just doing her job."

A muffled sniff.

Howl panicked.

He didn't understand. Shopping was supposed to be fun! "May I see the dresses she picked?" he tried.

He waited a long moment before he heard feet shuffling and a bolt sliding.

Sophie peeked a furtive, wet-eyed glance at him before dropping her gaze and opening the door. Howl's jaw dropped.

Orange.

That's all he could see. A tasteless swamp of orange and ruffles. And a giant pleated flower on the hip. And some weird, pearly stringy things on smooth-looking shoulders... _NO, bad Howl. Focus on the ruffles._

His eyebrows shot up. "Good Lord, that is an absolute monstrosity."

A giggle burst out of Sophie. She covered her mouth.

"The consultant chose that?" Howl exclaimed. He peeked past her ear at the other dresses on the rack and grimaced. "You're too nice. I would've locked the door if she had brandished even one of those."

"I thought… I mean, you said she was going to choose for me."

"What? No, I just thought you'd have some fun being pampered."

"...Oh."

Howl grimaced as she discreetly wiped her eyes under the guise of fixing her bangs. He'd dealt with plenty of crying women before, but this was _Sophie_ , upset about _shopping_. Double conundrums.

So he decided to do what made sense: take charge.

He tsked. "This won't do. It looks like I'll be your assistant today. When you're done burning that thing, we'll start over looking together."

When he started to shut the stall door, Sophie stopped him.

"Um, Howl?"

"Hm?"

She reddened. "It's about this dress..."

Howl looked at her quizzically. She took a deep breath.

"I think I broke the zipper," she blurted.

Howl sighed.

He knew there was a heaven.


	50. Changes

a/n: I have been ridiculously busy with moving and travel, and when I actually found time to write, it involved a lot of scrapping and editing and oh my gosh. Please have mercy. I rewrote this chapter like a zillion times.

But it's the 50th chapter! Let us pause in contemplation, seeing as we've reached the point of no return.

 _Ps~_ It must be said: you guys are the brilliant best. I can't tell you how many excellent reactions, suggestions, and insights you've shared that have carried this story forward.

Thank you for your sweet reviews, Guests and Chocolate Truffle! :D

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 50: Changes**

 _ **6 years ago…**_

The deafening, throbbing music of the dance hall chased Sophie all the way to the powder room.

The fifteen-year-old locked herself inside one of the dimly lit stalls and rubbed her arms, willing herself to calm. Out there the decorations were breathtaking, making it feel like a real "Night Under the Stars," as this high school winter event was suitably named. However, Sophie couldn't enjoy it since everyone kept staring at her.

She gnawed her cheek and examined her blue A-line dress. Her little sister had helped her pick it, and Lettie always helped mom at the boutique so she should have good taste.

Then again, Lettie was only eleven.

 _Oh no, I look childish, don't I?_ Sophie worried, tugging at her sparkling neckline. She wished she could ask Justin about it... No, he'd probably just give her a puzzled smile and say something endearing. Besides, he was here with Hannah.

A sad sigh exited Sophie's lungs, stifling when a group of girls entered the powder room.

"Ow ow, I am so getting out of these shoes!" one of them complained.

"I told you to buy the 4-inch ones. You way overcompensated for your shortness."

"Whatever, Miss Bra Stuffer."

"Shut up!"

"Hey, did either of you see Sophie Hatter?" a third girl asked.

A wall away, Sophie froze.

"I was just going to mention that!" the second girl exclaimed. "For a minute I thought she was from another school. It's like someone used magic on her or something."

"Yeah, but why'd she even come? Everyone knows she likes Justin, but he already has a girlfriend. It's weird."

"You think Sophie's trying to steal him from Hannah?" gasped the first girl.

Sophie paled. She would never do that to Justin!

Sink handles squeaked and the sound of running water echoed with the muted beats of music. "If that's the case, she shouldn't have bothered," the third girl scoffed. "They've been friends this long and he still hasn't asked her out? Pretty clothes can't change plain."

"Seriously."

"She's not worth his time."

The girls laughed.

"Oh my gosh, this is my song! Come on, let's dance!"

The powder room door banged open, hissed as it closed.

Inside her stall, Sophie softly cried.

* * *

 **Present Day**

After the sales consultant had fixed the zipper and left, Sophie peeled off the orange dress and pressed cold knuckles to her teary eyes.

 _What is wrong with me?_

She felt so embarrassed; a free dress, a chance to be "pampered," her boss taking time on a Friday and yet here she was, crying because something didn't fit. It wasn't like she hadn't gone shopping before.

 _Calm down,_ she scolded herself. She needed to focus. 'Represent the company.' That's what Howl had said.

There was a knock.

"Ready to go yet?" the love doctor asked impatiently.

"J-Just a moment."

Sophie hastily finished changing and bent to retrieve her purse. She caught sight of herself in the mirror as she straightened.

 _Plain,_ her mind whispered.

Sophie flinched and looked away.

But as she reached for the lock, she remembered how unusually nice Howl had been earlier, and she wondered... Was that him truly wanting her to have fun, like he had said?

Or was his kindness just a form of pity?

* * *

The mall shoppers hastily stepped aside as the love doctor stalked past them.

Howl scowled; he couldn't believe that sales consultant. Sophie's broken zipper had been right there, blessed inches from his fingers, and that woman had swooped in like some sharp-eyed mother-in-law. Botheration, he should have known Heaven was looking out for its gray angel!

 _My thoughts weren't_ that _naughty_ , he pouted, slashing his cane through the waters of a fountain. Thankfully there were still a couple of other stores where he could try his luck. He hoped Sophie liked this next one better. He still didn't understand what had upset her.

His thoughts slowed as he and Sophie entered the mall's atrium.

It was like a king's ballroom. Ornate, scarlet walls arched up to a fantastically extravagant chandelier hanging beneath a giant gold dome. A panoramic wood balcony jutted from the upper story. If Howl were standing up there, he'd be able to look down and observe the ancient dragon mosaic which stretched out across the bottom floor.

Nostalgia filled him. "Hey, Sophie, want to know a bit about this place?"

He glanced over his shoulder with a ready grin, but it faltered at the sight of Sophie's downcast face.

She was still upset.

An uncomfortable cramp twisted Howl's chest. Sliding a hand into his trench coat pocket, he opened his mouth.

"Could we do this another day?" Sophie suddenly asked.

Howl gaped, feeling like she had just asked him to hug his grandmother.

"But we're already here."

Sophie twisted her hands together. "It's just... I mean, isn't this a bit excessive? I'm just a secretary."

She startled when something dropped onto her head. Reaching up, she touched the rim of his fedora. Her frustration was evident as she started to pull it off.

"But you're _my_ secretary," Howl calmly said.

Sophie paused and blinked up at him in confusion, a blush in her cheeks.

Howl felt his own face heat.

"So, uh, you know, not a moment wasted," he stammered, glancing around before abruptly stalking off into the nearest women's formal wear department. He waved off the sales consultants and pulled a paper slip out of his inner coat pocket. After planting his feet beside a rack of evening gowns, Howl turned back to his secretary, who was eyeing the dresses warily.

He cleared his throat. Sophie shifted her attention towards him.

"'The Gentleman,'" Howl grandly read off the paper slip, gesturing at himself.

Sophie raised a brow.

Howl frowned, offended by her skepticism. "It's true."

"I'm listening," she relented.

"'Classic dinner,'" he continued reading with enthusiasm. He skimmed his fingers across the gowns until he came across a sleek, scarlet creation. He lifted it off the rack, pausing only to remove the crystal belt. "'Hold the garlic,'" he winked.

"Howl, you can't use a contest entry to choose my dress," Sophie protested.

"And why not?" he said cheekily. He placed the contest entry in her palm. His hand casually brushed her skin as he pulled away.

 _Soft._

Sophie stared incredulously at the paper slip. "'Classic movie... butter popcorn, diet coke…' You're modifying a date night?"

"Hey, you said you'd help me judge the entries," he pouted.

Sophie heaved a sigh before glancing around the room. She walked over to a ball gown on display and grabbed a handful of the bright yellow ruffles before turning back, a fist on her hip. "This buttery enough for you?"

Howl rather liked the sight she made standing there in his fedora. It gave her prim, high-collared uniform classic appeal. "Sophie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"They're going to think I'm a walking snack bar," she muttered.

Howl smirked and pulled a silvery brown dress from the rack. "Don't forget the diet coke."

When Sophie's lips quirked up in a smile, he felt the tightness in his chest unravel.

* * *

But the relief didn't last.

"That can't be a real suggestion."

"Are you sure you aren't colorblind?"

"Why'd you put it back? It's avant-garde!"

"It's obnoxiously inappropriate is what it is!"

Thirty minutes later found Howl stretched out in a plush chair and tapping his cane impatiently against his knees.

 _When will that woman appreciate me?_ he huffed.

He should have held onto that paper slip. As Sophie's confidence had increased, so had their bickering. They managed to agree on a few dresses, including the first scarlet evening gown he had pulled, but Sophie had eventually sent him to the changing rooms while she finished up.

 _She'll never get a boyfriend this way,_ he tsked. He jolted when his fedora was suddenly placed back on his head. Sophie stood in front of him with an armful of blue, scarlet, and daffodil yellow fabric and lace.

"I've found some things," she announced.

Howl stared as she walked stiffly away and disappeared behind a changing curtain.

Then he eagerly jumped to the edge of his seat. _Finally! This is what I came for!_

Several restless minutes later, the sound of rock 'n' roll punctuated the ambiance.

"Yes?" Howl quickly answered his mobile, keeping his eye on the curtain.

 _"Hey man, I've got meetings at the Kingsbury branch next week and was wonderin' if I could crash at your place. I'll bring beer."_

"Yeah, Cal, that's fine."

Howl wondered what dresses Sophie had chosen. The blue one had looked like a cocktail. He'd have to make sure she didn't wear it to the Gala. Too much leg.

 _"...tonight? Yo, where's your head at?"_

"Hm?"

 _"I said, is it cool if I come over tonight?"_

"Oh. Yeah, sure!" Howl shook himself. "Actually, I've got a couple house calls to make early in the morning. Would you mind…?"

 _"I'll watch Markl. Just warn him he's for breakfast if he wakes me up like last time."_

Howl chuckled and hung up right as the curtain on Sophie's stall slid open.

"I'm ready," Sophie said shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Howl couldn't breathe.

His eyes fixated on her as he slowly rose from his chair. He took a step. Then another. His fingers whitened on his cane.

"Sophie," he panted.

"My sister liked the blue one best, but I think the red one might be more suited for the Gala..." She trailed off as Howl towered over her.

"Sophie." He wanted to scream. "Why aren't you wearing any of the dresses?"

She blinked up at him. "I already tried them on. Like you said," she solemnly held up a finger, "not a moment wasted."

* * *

 **"HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE" CONTEST**

 _Prompt: Use 50 words or less to describe the perfect first meeting._

Entry Submitted by: ksuzu

The gentleman:

Classic dinner (hold the garlic). Classic movie ("Here's looking at you, kid"). She's a traditional sort of girl-next-door: butter popcorn, diet coke. Your hand approaches asymptotically, makes contact. She asks: "What's this", and you respond demurely, "A hand hug."


	51. Of All Places

Guest: thank you so much! I'm thrilled about your socks, and I hope this story continues to bring you amusement!

* * *

 **Chapter 51: Of All Places**

Calcifer cackled as he flew across the night sky.

He had never felt so alive!

He was weightless. His outstretched limbs embraced the balance of flight. His skin burned as brightly as the stars.

 _No stinkin' landlocked offices. No people leavin' me with their messes._

He twisted a look at himself with a grin. _Yeah, no more clothes!_

A line of foamy white clouds began streaming past him. Up, down, spiraling, falling, the redhead weaved skillfully around them, but he gagged when one splattered in his face.

 _Ugh! It tastes weird!_

A high-pitched giggle suddenly filled the air.

Calcifer whirled around. He sputtered as another cloud hit him. _Hey! Who do ya think you're messin' with -_

He jolted awake.

A certain little boy was grinning over him with a can of shaving cream.

Calcifer snatched at him and missed. "Ya little spark plug!" he hollered, scrambling out of Howl's guest bed, but he got a serious head rush and tripped over a shoe. Markl's shrieks of laughter were joined by the frenzied yowling of cats. Calcifer staggered to his feet and had dug his phone from his pajama pocket before realizing his hands were covered in shaving cream.

"Howl, I'm lookin' at breakfast," the redhead growled, stretching out a foamy claw as he chased Markl into the living room.

 _"Markl's case worker is coming,"_ came Howl's desperate voice.

Calcifer lurched to a stop. "What! When?"

 _"Two hours!"_

Calcifer looked around at the cluttered floors.

"...Shit."

* * *

Sophie was packing when she got the call.

"Oh, good morning, Calcifer... what?" She quickly set the ceramic plate aside and pressed her phone closer to her ear. "Wait, please slow down. You said Howl is what?"

Thirty seconds later, she was throwing open her closet door. Three new dresses swayed on their hangers as Sophie put on slacks and a blouse and raked her hair into a braid.

"A second emergency?" she muttered. "Really, Howl?"

She buttoned her coat and rushed out into the frosty morning, but the cold couldn't diminish the warmth growing in her chest.

She was _his_ secretary, after all.

* * *

The wheezing of the taxi's engine faded as the sun peeked over the rolling hills, brightening the houses tucked amongst slumbering groves of trees. Birds chirped greetings to the rooftop squirrels, and a few late residents warmed up their cars for their daily commutes to the city.

The suburbs looked like a lovely, normal place to live.

 _So why_ , Sophie wondered, turning away from the scenery to stare incredulously back up the hill, _did my GPS lead me to a dump?_

That was the best way she could think to describe the castle-like structure looming on the skyline. It was covered in metal, for one thing, great iron plates bolted together like patchwork. The stories weren't stacked quite right, and a few giant antennas protruded haphazardly from the roof. Junk littered the front yard, and from her vantage point, Sophie saw that the "decorating" continued around back, where the hill evened out into a rocky plateau.

 _No wonder the taxi driver looked at me like I was crazy!_ Sophie worried. Was this really Howl's house?

Cautiously, she approached the solid wood front door, hoping to at least get out of the wind, but as she lifted her hand to knock, suspicion gripped her: what if this was some sort of trap?

Sophie froze. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't heard anything from Howl. What if Calcifer had lured her out here on a work pretense, knowing she'd come? What if this house actually belonged his serial killer friend who had a thing for eating the hearts of young women -

She screamed when the door suddenly swung inward.

A little boy screamed back, his orangish-brown hair wild as he dashed back into the house. He came racing back a second later, however, his brown eyes wide.

"Sophie?"

Sophie clutched her pounding chest. "Markl?"

"What are you doing here?" they both cried.


	52. Clean Streak

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 52: Clean Streak**

For the first time this week, Sophie felt like hitting someone other than Howl.

"You lied to me?" she bit out, trying not to raise her voice since Markl was playing in the nearby living room. If that's what it even was. It was impossible to tell beneath the clutter.

"Just hear me out," Calcifer said sheepishly, but Sophie cut him off.

"Is there or is there not paperwork for me to fill out?"

"Uh, no, but -"

"You lied!"

"Okay I did, and I'm so sorry, but if ya'd just -"

"Does Howl even know I'm here?"

"Well, I wasn't sure if ya'd show up, so..."

Sophie abruptly stood. She couldn't do this. What if Howl saw her invading his privacy? Oh how she wished she hadn't dismissed that taxi driver!

"Sophie, wait, please," Calcifer begged, palms open on the island countertop between them. "The emergency bit was the truth! This is about Markl."

Furrowing her brow, Sophie reluctantly glanced over at the little boy again. For the first time, she noticed the resemblance between his hair color and Calcifer's. "Is he yours?"

"Aw hell no!" At her frown, Calcifer hastily amended, "I mean, the kid's great and all. He's, well, it's kinda confidential information." The redhead seemed to debate for a second. "That park you mentioned meeting him at? That's where Markl's old friends from the children's home play. Markl is adopted."

Reality picked itself up and fell over sideways.

Calcifer wasn't Markl's father.

So if Markl was living in _Howl's_ house, then did that mean...?

"Howl finalized it a few months back, so a caseworker still swings by to make sure everything's dandy which, as ya can see, it's not." Calcifer gestured helplessly at the messy house. "Howl's gettin' here as fast as he can, but I've got barely two hours to clean this place so _please help me_. You're the only person I could ask. I swear it ain't for vengeance this time!"

Sophie stared at him in shock.

Howl had a _son._

As in the love doctor who ate drama flakes for breakfast.

As in the man who couldn't commit to a meeting with his own grandmother.

Sophie cast her dazed sight about her - at the peanut-butter smudged cabinets, the containers of uncovered food, the miniature airplanes and plastic swords stabbed into the laundry pile, the piles of books and dirty socks and bottles and soft toy animals - and then her attention caught on a wrinkled photograph magnetized to the fridge. The photo's edges had been overlaid by various papers and crayon drawings, but the brightness of the scene was not diminished: Markl laughing merrily, his arms wrapped around Howl's neck in a hug.

The joy on Howl's face reminded her of another time, of an older man with warm, brown eyes, and of days before hospital beds and sunless mornings.

When Markl proudly skipped into the kitchen a moment later, Sophie knew what she had to do.

She knelt and looked the little boy in the eyes.

"Would you like to play a game?"

* * *

Howl mashed the accelerator pedal like there was a witch on his trail.

Why, of all his sponsors, had he chosen to meet the one in Market Chipping? There had been 60 miles between him and his home when the caseworker had called, and she never rescheduled.

 _Damn it, what if she arrives early again?_

By the time his home hill came into view, Howl was close to full-scale panic. He threw his car into park next to Calcifer's jeep and raced for the front door.

"Markl! Calcifer! Drop everything, we're moving!" he yelled as he burst into his house. "Just throw some underwear in a bag and get in the car!"

Not even bothering to remove his shoes, he hurtled into the living room, where he promptly barreled down the last person he expected to see this side of hell.

Laundry flew everywhere.

Howl groaned as he picked himself off the floor. His eyes met Sophie's, and the two of them reared back, like unfamiliar cats upon meeting at a street corner.

Sophie's hands tightened around the empty laundry basket.

His basket.

In his house.

What was Sophie doing _in his house?_

"Daddy!" Markl yelled, and Howl felt more than the metaphorical wind knocked out of him as his son tackled his stomach. "Daddy, Sophie's here! And you're late! If you don't hurry, you won't get any!" Markl spun towards Sophie. "How much time I got?"

"Five minutes," his secretary said after a pause.

"Thanks!"

Howl's brows twisted as Markl ran off. "Won't get any what?"

"Scones."

A yelp split the air. Howl turned to see Calcifer using a spoon to tentatively prod a sizzling something in a cast iron pan. Calcifer never cooked. He had sworn it off after that stove-top fire a couple years back.

The redhead caught him gawking and scowled. "This ain't my idea. She bullied me!"

"Markl hasn't eaten breakfast," Sophie defended. She swiftly gathered the spilled laundry and propped the basket on her hip. That's when Howl noticed she was wearing pants. She actually owned normal clothes! As if sensing his thoughts, Sophie swept him with a look that felt uncomfortably like a dressing down (not to be confused with "undressing", he would know). "Get the plates. I'll have Markl wash up."

Howl's jaw dropped as she strode out of the living room. "Get the plates… Calcifer, why in the blazes is she here?"

"Because I asked her. It was too much for just me an' the kid!"

Howl sniffed the air and rushed into the kitchen. "Give that to me," he demanded, pushing his friend away from the stove, "and hand me a plate and six more of those eggs. Did I raise a hooligan? You're burning the bacon letting them sit like this!"

"Here's one for ya: may all your bacon burn," Calcifer spat. "All this work and not one lousy thank you."

Gritting his teeth, Howl briskly rescued the meat onto a plate before turning to fully absorb what they had done in his absence.

It was far from immaculate.

There were still little messes in every corner.

But overall, the house looked presentable.

The fear that had been ravaging him for the past two hours released him like a fist.

"Don't get too relieved," mumbled Calcifer, awkwardly patting Howl on the back as he slumped across the island counter. "We tossed it all in the downstairs den."

"I don't care," Howl said. And he didn't. All that mattered was that this post-placement adoption visit went well.

His thoughts shifted to the woman currently in the backroom with his son. "Sophie knows about Markl."

"She said they already met at the park."

Howl groaned.

"Dad, why's your face all red?"

And with that, the doorbell rang.


	53. Out of the Mouth of Babes

a/n: Oi, I've missed you all SO MUCH! 2017 ended in a series of adventures for me including out-of-state travel, wedding showers, NaNoWriMo, joining a writer's club, family health concerns, and marrying off my sister. I've actually never been much of a traveler, but here I am visiting my other sister in California. I'm living out of a suitcase!

Thank you for all of the follows, faves, and views in the meantime. I had the darnedest time deciding whether to skip this scene or not. It ended sooner than I wanted, but I figure if I'm going to get this story back off the ground I gotta start with something.

 _Guest: you are the bomb diggity squigim! Thanks much for that!_

 _AngelaLove072101: I appreciate all of your enthusiastic comments!_

 _Nihkohl: welcome to the party, doll! And if anyone's late, it's me, lol._

 _Mardy: thank you for your super kind words. :D Much more Markl to come this chapter~_

* * *

 **Chapter 53: Out of the Mouth of Babes**

 **HOWL'S LOVE ADVICE**

 _Professional Love Advice_ from Dr. Howl Jenkins Pendragon

 _March 4th, Entry #19_

 **Dear Dr. Pendragon:**

When is the best time to tell your significant other you have kids?

 **Sincerely,**

 **Mommy Issues**

* * *

 **Dear Mommy Issues:**

After the wedding.

 _ **Dr. Pendragon, your neighborhood love enthusiast**_

* * *

Howl knew from personal experience that Mrs. Coriander, Markl's caseworker, could not be charmed. If the boxy little woman ever made an online dating profile, her ideal match would be "punctual, compulsively honest, and enjoy long sessions of paperwork."

She completely shocked him when she accepted his dear, charitable secretary's breakfast invitation.

"Thank you for the tea, young lady. Wherever did Mr. Jenkins find you?"

"I must've fallen from the ceiling," Sophie replied.

The love doctor paused in the middle of putting down a plate. Had Sophie just make their first inside joke? He tried to get her attention but caught Mrs. Coriander's instead. The older woman narrowed her eyes over her mug. Howl smiled weakly.

This could potentially be the second most awkward breakfast of his life.

 _Think positively_ , he reminded himself when he spotted Markl bouncing on his stool. This was the last agency visit before they'd be free to enjoy their lives together. All they had to do was stick to the script and Mrs. Coriander's ugly green car would soon be out of their driveway.

"Wow, I'm starved!" Markl cried as he received an empty plate.

"You haven't eaten anything?" Mrs. Coriander asked.

"No. When dad's not here, we're not allowed in the kitchen."

Howl cleared his throat. "You are allowed in the kitchen. You're just not allowed to use the stove."

"Yeah, so we don't start a fire again!"

The caseworker's sparse eyebrows lifted as she pulled out her notebook.

"It was no big deal, lady. Nuthin' like that scary and powerful fire demon we conjured, eh Markl?" Calcifer offered, attempting rescue. Howl shot him a look. "What? We put a lid on it."

"That's right, put a lid on it," Howl gritted before moving to retrieve the pan of bacon and eggs.

Sophie was standing by the stove already. Despite the circumstances, the love doctor rather liked the sight of her managing his kitchen. Morning sunlight from the sink window flowed around her like watercolors. An impression came to him that he couldn't quite interpret. It felt like…

…like watching a grandma?

A sexyish one.

When she braced to lift the cast iron, he swooped to help. "Allow me."

"I've got it."

"I insist."

A piece of bacon fell to the floor.

"Five second rule!" Markl shouted.

"Germs don't play that game," Sophie huffed, finally relinquishing the pan so she could clean up the crispy casualty. Howl tried to catch her gaze, but she mutely passed him by. He frowned.

"One time, one time I was made to eat a bug!"

"Who told you to do that, Markl, a bully?" Mrs. Coriander said. "Someone at the orphanage?"

"No, just me." Markl sighed. His little shoulders slumped. "Daddy won't let me see my friends."

"Markl, I take you to the park all the time," Howl exclaimed.

"But you never let my friends come here! Last time you said our stuff wasn't good for kids' eyes."

"I was talking about my laundry -" _Dear Lord_ , Howl thought, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck at the sound of Mrs. Coriander's pen scratching. _At this rate I'll be lucky if I get visiting rights._ Judgment levels were rising. Sophie's gaze pressed on his soul, and Calcifer sounded suspiciously like he was choking on air. Howl hastily started serving the food. "Bon appétit, enjoy," he cheered.

His son promptly abandoned all manners.

It was like a horror scene: little hands and teeth tearing into breakfast, bits of fried flesh and yolk splattering everywhere.

"Markl..." The love doctor grabbed a napkin and leaned over in what he hoped appeared to be a patient, paternal endeavor. "Hold still, you've got something on your face."

Markl shot him a weird look. "Dad. I'm not a baby."

The oven timer rang.

"Scones are ready," Sophie announced.

"Yay! I worked hard for those," Markl cried.

"You had to work for food?"

Howl was starting to hate the sound of Mrs. Coriander's voice.

"Sophie made them 'cause I cleaned my room! She's nicer than Uncle Cal. This morning, I played a trick on him, and he chased me around the house, and sometimes he beats me-"

"He beats you!"

Calcifer spewed egg.

"At video games, Mrs. Coriander," supplied Howl with a nervous laugh.

The older woman frowned. "What sorts of video games, Markl?"

"Well, there's demons and witches and heads cut off..."

For the next few minutes, Howl numbly listened to his little boy talk them into a custody battle. Strangia seemed nice this time of year. He wondered if Calcifer could buy them time to get to the border.

"Excuse me." He finally stood. "Please continue your meal." As graciously as he could, he slid his plate to Calcifer and left. The sounds of kitchen activity were soon dampened by the bathroom door and the splashing of cold water. Extra cold.

Howl sighed into his wet hands. _I'm going to need a bath after this._


	54. Interference

a/n: This is the last of the Howl's home segment. After that we'll be ending the first arc (finally, right?). Plug your ears, because the Chekhov's guns are gonna get pretty loud!

 _Guest: If rugby prepared Howl for anything, it was for this breakfast, lol! You've got a great read on Sophie, and I'm so glad you love her 'cause she needs it. Excellent questions, by the way! I'm hoping to answer them within the next few chapters. Until then, thank you and happy reading! :D_

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 54: Interference**

Sophie couldn't relax after Howl left the kitchen.

She hadn't meant to intrude. She had hoped that inviting Mrs. Coriander to breakfast would set a favorable mood, but then Markl had been innocently, brutally chatty. Sophie had never seen Howl this distressed. His confident veneer had disappeared to reveal a three-dimensional stranger, someone the rumors had never mentioned.

In other words for the first time, Sophie realized that Howl was an actual person.

She couldn't look at him. How many times had she confidently judged him before even checking if she was right? She had accused him of focusing on appearances, but the truth was she had been doing the same. As things stood, she could not longer keep her resolve not to interfere, because for all the alarming statements Markl had made, Howl had never once shouted him down.

Taking a deep breath, she carried the tray of scones to the table. "Markl, how do you feel about living here?"

Her question punctuated the strained silence that had descended in Howl's absence. The boy's large brown eyes shifted between the adults. "I like it." He shrunk on his stool. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not." Sophie tonged a scone onto his plate and added a dollop of peach preserves. "You like it here? What do you like?"

"Um... I, um, like my room and stuff. And bedtimes stories. I like it when my dad tells me bedtimes stories. He's good at making them up."

Sophie tried to picture it. Howl in an open-necked poet's shirt fending off imaginary sky pirates. Her cheeks warmed. "That's wonderful. What else? How about that pile of smelly socks we found?"

Markl wrinkled his nose and grabbed a scone. "Gross, I don't like socks!" He giggled. "Well, maybe nice socks. Daddy got me cool green ones to match my vest. Wanna see?"

"Maybe after -"

"Um, we play airplanes and wizards a lot. I'm always the airplane 'cause I'm fastest."

"Do you play any sports, Markl?" Mrs. Coriander asked lightly after a beat. Sophie and Calcifer shared a glance. The older woman's writing had relaxed.

Markl moved on to other positive stories about school and home, and so the morning continued.

* * *

Courage didn't make Howl leave the bathroom but rather desperation... and a whole mess of essential oils. However, when he finally ventured back into the living room he met an alarming sight: the caseworker was already leaving.

"Mr. Jenkins, you've got a lot of work to do on your parenting," she sniffed, pulling her coat over her stocky frame.

Any situation-smoothing phrases slipped Howl's mind and crumbled into the throbs of dread. Was this how it ended? Could he say anything to convince her? "If you let Markl stay, I swear I'll feed him and things" was on the tip of his tongue when she flashed that awful notebook of hers and, to his surprise, smiled.

"However, it looks like you're off to a passable start. Markl, call me if you need anything, alright young man? Nice meeting you, Sophie. Calcifer."

"Bye, Mrs. Corder!" Markl piped up beside Howl, startling him. The young father numbly leaned down in response to his son's upraised arms and lifted the boy onto his hip. Together they watched the caseworker hobble to that ugly green car and drive it off through the hills.

Calcifer fetched two beers from the kitchen. Howl gulped a third of one down, making Markl laugh, before handing it back. "What just happened?"

The red-head leaned close. "When you left the room, Sophie -"

"I'm headed out, too," she spoke behind them, causing Howl to swivel. She was meeting his eyes again, but her expression was blank. Not that he blamed her. She was probably at her limit with politeness and needed to leave before she said something.

Chest burning, he shifted so she could pass into the front hallway, but then he noticed the mobile in her hand.

"You can't tell anyone about this." A crack around her brow. "About Markl, I mean. The media will be all over him. Please, Sophie. I want him to live normally a little while longer."

Her mask softened. "Of course I won't tell. Why would I?"

"You'll delete the pictures then?" he pressed, eying her phone.

Calcifer shifted uncomfortably. "Dude -"

"I didn't take any pictures." Sophie sighed. She glanced out the window. "I was going to call for a taxi, that's all."

Howl blinked. Oh right. Aside from his and Calcifer's cars, Mrs. Coriander's had been the only other vehicle in the driveway.

What had Calcifer been saying earlier? That Sophie had helped him out somehow? _I'm an idiot, of course she did. Who cleans somebody's house on their Saturday off?_

He shook his head. "No need about the taxi. I can drive you home."

Markl brightened. "Can I come?"

* * *

"... but Grandma looked like this," the little boy demonstrated from his booster seat. "Hahah, Daddy got scared!"

"Out of my mind. Your grandma gives me the heebie jeebies," Howl said over his shoulder.

Almost as surprising as President Suliman acting like a normal grandmother was how cozy Sophie found the ride home. Howl actually drove like a sane person when his son was in the car. Markl's chatterings buffered the awkwardness between the adults, but Sophie was eager to get home, drink tea, finish packing, and sort her current mess of thoughts.

"Is that your house?" Markl suddenly asked.

They were pulling up to Mrs. Beatrix's property. A moving truck sat in the driveway. Sophie's breath hitched at the sight. "Um, no, it belongs to my elderly friend. Well, not anymore. I'm moving out."

"You're gonna be homeless?" Markl lamented.

"Don't worry, I'll find something soon," soothed Sophie as she unbuckled. She turned to meet Howl's curious gaze. "Thanks for the ride," she murmured.

"You know -" Howl rolled his eyes heavenwards when Markl continued, startling Sophie into a laugh - "when I lost my house, they let me live at the orphanage. It was okay, but then daddy -"

He went silent for so long, eyebrows tightly knitted, that Sophie and Howl exchanged bemused glances.

"I know!" the little boy finally yelled. "You should live with us, Sophie! Do you have a daddy?"

Sophie could not, _would not_ , look at Howl. "Not anymore."

"Then that's easy. My daddy can be your daddy, too!" Markl crowed.


	55. Roadside Assistance

_"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 55: Roadside Assistance**

Howl's Wednesday Checklist

 **1.** buy vodka

 **2.** sign Markl's progress report

 **3.** buy tequila

 **4.** schedule Vale End Springs for spiritual cleansing

 **5.** drop USK game tickets at Roger's desk

 **6.** prep for talk with Markl

 **7.** *buy ALL the alcohol

 **8.** locate missing secretary...

"Sophie."

The white-walled office echoed her name.

"Sophie?"

A crisp breeze from the ajar window ruffled a sticky-note. Howl leaned over his desk to have a look.

 _'Out for lunch.'_

He sighed. "Not again."

* * *

Calm winter sunshine flickered across the plush seats of the limousine. In the background, the muffled sounds of traffic played like a mixed track.

Justin gazed out the tinted windows towards the passing city. He had always like the atmosphere of Kingsbury, ever since his high school and university days. When his father had asked him to handle the Suliman Corporation contract, he had eagerly accepted. If all went according to plan, Justin hoped to be looking at a permanent position here.

 _Maybe a few other permanent things as well_ , he mused, finger swirling around Sophie's contact information in his phone.

She hadn't texted him much since their lunch date last week. He tried not to be disappointed. He knew she was busy with moving and her fairly new job. Still, he wondered if she shared any of his feelings. Doubt couldn't help but warm to hope at the memory of her shy smiles.

"Mr. Tharaldson, there's a fifteen minute traffic delay to your hotel," one of his bodyguards announced.

Justin nodded. "So be it." He sighed and looked out the window again. Despite being on mainstreet, they were now passing some rougher parts of town. It had always saddened Justin to see poverty grow under the shadows of opulence.

Suddenly, he straightened in his seat. Was that… ?

A woman had just stepped out of a ground floor apartment and was hurrying his way. As Justin watched, a coarse-looking man followed her, shaking his fist. The woman turned. A long brown braid whipped out behind her.

Just then, the limousine slowed for a light. Justin threw open a door and jumped out onto the sidewalk. His bodyguards yelped in alarm.

"Sophie!" Justin called. "Sophie!"

She spun towards him, relief flooding the alarm on her face. Justin quickly strode forward to stand between her and the man. It took great control not to pummel that sneer off his face.

"Can I help you?" Justin demanded.

The smell of illegal drugs thickened the air as the man crossed his arms. "Yeah, tell that stuck-up bitch if she didn't want the room she shouldn't have wasted my time!"

As Justin bristled Sophie spoke up. "You seemed to have plenty of tenants already," and Justin saw there were other men loitering through the apartment's open doorway, some on couches, a few in the windows. Ire filled him. Of course she had left!

"She said she's not interested. Deal with it." He touched Sophie's shoulder. "Let's go." She nodded.

"Whoa whoa, you think 'cause you wear nice shit you can step in our business?" the man barked, grabbing Justin's wrist.

The Royal Airlines heir tensed. Years of rugby sent his blood surging at this familiar position. All it would take were three moves to take this guy down. Three. Sophie would have plenty of time to escape.

But unfortunately, as it turns out his bodyguards did their job pretty well.

* * *

It took him several minutes to get his heart rate back down.

 _I'm glad Sophie's fine at least._

The limousine seat looked enormous with her demurely at its center. Justin found that simply being near Sophie had a calming effect. Her voice soothed as she explained her short moving deadline. "I thought this apartment would be safe since it was right by the mainstreet," she murmured, cradling a glass of juice in her lap. She had declined wine on account of returning to work.

"I didn't know you had such little time. I would've been happy to help you find something," Justin said with concern. "I happen to have some connections. Let me ask around and get you the numbers to call. You don't have to do this alone."

"Oh, Justin, I don't know… Are you sure?" she asked anxiously, staring across the gap at him with those brown eyes.

 _I'd buy you an entire house if that's what you wanted_.

"Of course."

They arrived at Suliman Corp. earlier than he liked. As the limousine pulled around the paved entryway, Sophie shifted in her seat. "You can drop me off at the back entrance, if that's alright."

"Why? I like being seen with you."

She blushed. It gave Justin the courage to continue. "Listen, Suliman Corporation is hosting a gala this Saturday for her shareholders. It's probably going to be terribly stuffy. You know, one of those things where everyone dresses pompously and tries to outdo each other eating hors d'oeuvres."

"I know about that. President Suliman asked me to go."

Justin looked at Sophie in surprise. "Really? That's great!" He smiled. "If that's the case, would you like to go together?"

His old childhood friend searched his face. Her thumbs rubbed the curved sides of her drinking glass.

Before the wait became too long, she smiled. "Thank you. That sounds like fun."


	56. Counting Costs

a/n: or as I alternatively like to call this chapter, "Counting Down."

 _Guest: Thank you for all the positive feedback! :D_

 _Lady Lohengrin: You're seriously making me blush. Thank you so, so much!_

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 56: Counting Costs**

 _One._

 _Two._

 _Three._

 _Four._

5 o'clock on Thursday.

 _Six._

 _Seven._

 _Eight._

Nine ten-digit numbers scrawled on a crinkled contest flyer.

 _11._

 _12._

13 boxes stacked by the front door.

14 tasks left to do: sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, scrubbing, wiping...

 _...15, 16, 17, 18, 19…_

20 hours until Mrs. Beatrix is picked up by her children, 21 until Sophie returns her key.

 _22._

 _23._

 _24._

 _25 divided by two_ reasons to consider regarding whether she should accept Howl's offer or Justin's.

But as Sophie curled up on the empty white carpet of her equally empty apartment, she couldn't help thinking that it had been _26 months_ since she had been home, over two years since that fight with her step-mother... her mother whose hair was as blonde as her name Honey, who loved people and parties, disappearing on whims, leaving behind glittery chaos, and then pretending like the world was this happy, perfect place while Sophie was just trying to hold together the pieces.

 _Howl reminds me of her,_ Sophie admitted to herself. She stroked the white carpet by her cheek, soothing herself with the repetitive motions. _But I think he's different, maybe._

 _He's present._

 _He's -_

Sophie sighed. She couldn't answer that yet. She didn't think she had been _completely_ wrong about him, but she hadn't been totally fair, either. The events of this past weekend still had her reeling, though not just her revelations about Howl and his secret son. On Sunday morning, Howl had sent her a text. It was a surprisingly objective invitation to stay at his place for free while she sorted out her living situation.

At first Sophie couldn't believe her eyes. Markl's embarrassing daddy-swap offer aside (which had been absolutely mortifying, made ten times worse by Howl's stark embarrassment), Howl barely knew her. And they worked together! Was he not worried about that situation getting out?

That's what made Justin's offer appealing. Her own apartment meant full privacy. There'd be virtually no risk of scandals or theatrics. The apartments' qualities and prices were also more reasonable than anything she had found on her own, which she knew had something to do with Justin.

However, having her own apartment also meant paying rent and utilities. Living in the city was expensive and had put her living paycheck to paycheck these past two years. If she stayed at Howl's for free, maybe she could finally start saving money and prove to her mother… But then again, Lettie could visit her any time if she had her own place.

 _5:08._

 _5:09._

 _5:17._

 _5:35._

Sophie finally unfurled her limbs and sat up. Ruffling her loose hair, she reached for her mobile. Once she made this phone call, she'd only have tomorrow and Saturday morning to move her things. Then it'd be time to get ready for the Gala.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed the call button.


	57. Gestures

a/n: This chapter was starting to get long, so I decided to post it "as is" instead of using it as a chapter introduction. Strictly gala stuff to follow! I've always liked my OC Marianne, but I fell in love with her during this chapter lol.

 _Guest: Hahaha after personal landlord experiences, I'd probably take Justin's offer, too. You're right, though, "annoying feelings" can change everything!_

* * *

 _"Howl's Love Advice"_

 **Chapter 57: Gestures**

Weekend nights at Suliman Corp. were almost sensual. The usual hustling and smothering activity was stripped away to reveal a velvety hush, stirred only by the naked ticks of clocks and purrs of electricity.

Marianne loved the privacy, loved the spark of her bare little lamp across the vast, dark space, reflecting tiny stars in dormant computer screens. _This has to be my favorite date_ , she thought in wry amusement.

Roger was late. Mr. Punctual, Mr. Never-Misses-a-Deadline, but "Oh sorry, I got delayed" whenever it came to their meetings outside of work. Marianne had been dancing this undefined tango with him for years so she wasn't surprised. She'd known from the moment she pinned him to that copy machine that she was getting involved with a man who believed flowers belonged in funeral homes. Their opposing romantic views used to be a total turn on, but she was starting to get tired.

The journalist flicked off her lamp light and stretched. Her glossy black cocktail dress slid up her thighs. Her mobile flashed. She tossed it in her purse and left the room.

 _Fifteen more minutes, Roger, then I'm taking a taxi._

The open stairway leading to Yellow Floor felt marvelous to traverse in gala attire. Her tapping heels echoed as she strolled down the steps. The outside traffic lights twinkled across the window panes, and without all the people it was almost peaceful. She located the restrooms, and when she opened the door, to her surprise there was a woman standing by the sinks.

To her further surprise, that woman was Sophie Hatter in a vivid scarlet dress.

Sophie startled at her entry. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone would be down here."

"No, I'm sorry for surprising you," Marianne said, taking in the lace gown with wide eyes. It was both classy and sexy. The neckline was a modest bateau. The sleeves were capped. The whole thing clung bust to mid-thigh, where it flared down to the floor. "Your dress is absolutely gorgeous!"

"Thank you." Sophie smiled, looking nervous. "Would you like to switch?"

Marianne chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of stealing your date's great night."

The other woman blushed and turned back to the sink. Marianne joined her. Both ladies spent a quiet moment primping their hair. While Sophie had hers elegantly pulled up, Marianne had let her curls hang across her shoulders, and lightly tousling them she glanced at the woman who had been the subject of recent gossip.

Personally Marianne didn't know anything about Sophie, just that she seemed like a decent, level-headed person. But in the spirit of journalism Marianne was curious. What had Sophie done before Suliman Corp.? How did she manage to get Howl to work everyday? (All of Howl's old coworkers were dying to know!)

Or, what Marianne was currently interested in discovering...

"Are you going to the gala?"

"I am." Sophie looked at her through the mirror. "I can't imagine wearing this otherwise. You, too?"

"Yes, I wouldn't miss it. These events have the best wine. Endless!" Marianne finished retouching her mauve lipstick with a happy sigh. "Roger and I will be conducting interviews while we're there."

Sophie smiled before directing her attention to the bobby pins in her hands. "That sounds terrifying! I'll admit, I've never been to something like this. I'm not sure what to expect. Or if I'm even dressed correctly."

"That red gown is perfect. Though I might recommend a bit more blush."

"Ah... I moved houses this morning, my makeup is still buried in one of my boxes."

"Um, no worries, what you have is fine." Marianne mentally scolded herself. Broken journalism rule right there: never let things become awkward.

"I suppose I could always pinch my cheeks like in the olden days," Sophie joked before demonstrating. Her brow furrowed, and she leaned close to the mirror. "How on earth did they do it? The blush fades straight away!"

Marianne laughed. "No need for actual beauty pain. That's just a wretched saying, you know. You can use some of mine. Do you mind?"

"Could I?"

After a minute, Marianne realized she had the perfect lip stain, and then she remembered she had brought mascara, and soon she was brushing off the thanks of a very shy and dolled up Sophie. _I am so looking forward to seeing Howl's reaction to this._ At least she assumed that's who the woman was going with, classic "secretary and boss combo" and whatnot.

"Are you sure this isn't too much?" Sophie asked, biting her lip at her reflection.

"It's a gala. Nothing is too much, trust me. Consider it battle armor."

As the ladies slipped on their coats, their mobiles buzzed.

Marianne groaned. "Ugh. Really, Roger?"

"Mine's outside," Sophie said apologetically. She thanked her again before bidding a temporary farewell.

"Let's have fun!" Marianne cheered. Once the restroom door closed, she counted to five before following.

A limo was parked out front.

 _Whoa, Howl, travelling in style,_ Marianne thought, peering through the windows with a twinge of envy. Good thing she had Roger's little hatchback to look forward to.

But the man that stepped out to receive Sophie was decidedly _not_ Howl.

Marianne's jaw dropped.

Justin Tharaldson!

She was still in a daze when Roger finally showed.

"Hurry, we're going to be late," the man said, rolling down the window.

Marianne was too distracted to chide him. Her journalism senses were in overdrive. She threw herself into the car. "You will not believe who I saw Sophie Hatter drive off with! My goodness, she's a minx. I love it. I could get a whole article out of this. Wait, blast, we just did a thing. Maybe I can sort it and you can write it -"

"Here."

Marianne stuttered, then stopped, then stared at the crinkling velvet mass interrupting her space. Her nose recognized it before her eyes did.

Her fingers quickly curled around the bouquet of roses. "Roger, I'm not sick."

A kiss was pressed to the corner of her mouth.

Marianne blinked.

"So who's this Sophie person again?" Roger drawled, not meeting her eyes as he reached for the gear shift.

* * *

Now they were definitely late.

Fortunately, bow ties could be straightened and lipstick easily reapplied. Marianne happily sniffed her roses one final time before letting Roger pull her out of the car.

 _This might be my new favorite date._


End file.
